Kids are funny. So often all I can do is shake my head and think, "But why?" Take Daisy for example. I have never seen her play with rocks necessarily, or build with rocks, or even do anything particularly interesting with rocks . . . and yet, she and rocks are very connected. The picture above is a picture of the rocks I found IN her bed last night -- they were in a nice pile under her covers. That one might have been my fault as I had told Abe and Daisy to gather a few little rocks earlier in the day when we needed to pretend we were measuring the mass of "gold nuggets" in science. I should have known better than to purposefully direct Daisy to gather rocks. She does plenty of that on her own.
When we were leaving my sister Shannon's house a week or so ago, Daisy nervously hid her hands as I went to buckle her. I knew why -- rocks. I felt a little bad that she would think she had to hide her rocks from me, but seriously; I find rocks in every (I do mean every) load of laundry I do. If you check her pockets at any given moment when she has been outside you are likely to find rocks. When Mike got back from WA he brought the girls these tiny little jewelry like fairies. When I opened the box this week to make sure her fairy was in it I found -- no fairy, but plenty of small rocks.These rocks aren't fancy rocks; they aren't shiny or colorful rocks; they are plain old gray pebbles and stones. As I mentioned, she doesn't seem to have any intention of doing anything particular with them -- like even establishing a special collection. She doesn't notice that they are missing once I have discovered them in the laundry and thrown them back to their beloved natural nature homes. She just can't resist finding them and stashing them secretly all about the house. See? "Why?"
The funny thing is, someday I know I will probably sigh sadly that she has changed her tiny little interests and I am no longer shaking my head at rocks, rocks, and more rocks found in various places through out the entire house.