The Proverbial Grass Stain

So yesterday, my son once again comes home with a huge grass stain on this pants. And not only a grass stain but a big mud stain on his back side. I mean, what is he doing at recess anyway? Is it a magnetic pull to the grass and every imaginable mud hole that the playground offers? The answer to that is, Yes. I just have to sit back and remind myself that he's a boy. He's a boy. He's a boy. He's a boy. Because if I don't, my mind (and perhaps my mouth) will take me all sorts of directions. Like yesterday when I said to him, "Will, if you continue to come home with ruined pants, than maybe I'll just have to send you to school with no pants at all". Realistic? No. But it sure brought a goofy grin to his face. I've come to realize that this is not just a little boy problem, it trickles on up to big boys as well. (aka husbands) So....boys will be boys. No matter what the age. And, truthfully, who wouldn't want to, when given the opportunity, throw themselves into a big and inviting mud bog! So, I'm embracing the stains because I don't want to squelch the characteristics that draw him to that grass and mud. It's adventure, courage, bravery, and excitement. Remind me of this next time he comes home with a big one on his chapel clothes.

Here's to grass stains! ...and detergent ...and Zout ...and new INEXPENSIVE pants.
I think I'll go do laundry now.