Leaches?

Spring has sprung in Virginia. Our trees are in full bloom, covering the lawn with pretty little pedals every time a strong breeze blows. My weeping cherry trees are especially pretty this year. At times I find myself lost in thought, just staring out the window at my pretty trees. The blooms never last long and soon the flowers will be gone and the trees will camouflage back into the woods.

After school the boys and I decided to take advantage of the spring weather by cleaning a path to the stream. Timmy planted a flag on Robby Island, overthrowing him and renaming the territory "Timmy Island with sometimes Robby." While I was busy clearing brush and Timmy was running through the stream, Robby was busy metal detecting. (Unfortunately, the metal detector batteries died about 10 minutes into the effort.)

I had forgotten how much fun the boys have at the stream. I also forgot how difficult it is for me to travel down there. The walk would be so much easier if we could clear the branches and ginormous fallen trees for a path. Sigh. I guess I have another thing on my to-do list. In the meantime, I'm going to strive for a path clear of thorns and poison ivy while accepting that I will have to walk over dead trees and branches. It won't be an easy or relaxing walk, but it is going to be manageable.  

After playing for about an hour, we headed back up to get ready for dinner. Timmy was covered with mud. Per our protocol, I went inside to run a bath while he stripped down outside. When I went to retrieve his muddy clothes, I realized that he was wearing two pairs of jeans, two pairs of his underpants and one pair of mine.

I asked him why he wore so many clothes and my underpants. His answer was succinct. "I was afraid there would be leaches and I wanted to protect my penis. Your underpants are a lot bigger so they provided a lot of protection." 

Well, I asked.