rocks

Often, when doing laundry, I am reminded of this post of daddychip’s, about his son’s tendency to collect sticks. The Potato has an affection for stick-collecting, but his real genius is as a budding geologist.

These are the rocks I found in our washing machine today. Perhaps he’s hoping for the stone-washed look?

I don’t know what it is about kids and rocks. Both of our kids love collecting rocks, and this is not the first load of rocks that I’ve washed (which also says something about my refusal to clean out other people’s pockets, but that’s neither here nor there). The Bee has a box of rocks–most of them from our driveway–on her dresser. They look pretty much the same to me, but to her they are distinctive and wonderful.

I was talking to Ms. Lynn, my favorite of all the preschool teachers at daycare, and she told me that when the kids in the Potato’s class get to go outside (i.e.–when there’s not a monsoon, like there is today), they play restaurant, and the currency is rocks. She’s always trying to get them to leave the rocks outside when it’s time to come in, but there’s at least one kid who manages to sneak some rocks into the classroom every day. (She also told me that when her sons were small, she would make them clean out their own pockets after sticking her hand into one-too-many unidentified slimy messes, so I guess I’m not alone there.)

I remember liking to collect rocks and stones as a child. For some reason, the rocks that my kids seem to attach themselves to are usually craggy and sharp, but I always loved the smooth feel of a pebble. The beauty of rocks is that they are everywhere, and they don’t break or wear out. When we went on vacation at Christmas, I introduced the Bee to sea glass, and while we were there, it definitely held her attention. But sea glass isn’t something you find everywhere you go, whereas rocks are practically universal.

April 16, 2007. family life. 10 comments.