I've noticed lately that this team comraderie flows from one game to the other. There seems to be a "sport of the week (or maybe month)" and I'm not sure how one game can seem to be the best thing since sliced bread one week and then suddenly be replaced by another. Lately, four-square has been the "in" game. Ah, yes, does that bring back memories? Remember cherry bombs? Well now there are all kinds of other rules - like "body language" (I think you have to hit the ball with something other than your hands?) and "snake eyes" (when you look at one kid but bounce the ball in another kids square) and Harry Potter (where you have to name off a character from the movie while bouncing the ball?).
There is always a crudely drawn square in the middle of the parking lot and if the sound of a ball bouncing is heard anywhere on the hill, out of the crevices come the kids calling there positions and who will be "king". They even recruit innocent, adult, child-less neighbors who might just be trying to get to their car. "Hey Ms. Alicia! Wanna play 4-square?" Before she knows it, Ms. Alicia is throwing a spinny ball against an innocent 5 year old and celebrating her victory before remembering that she was really on her way to the grocery store. Gotta watch those kids, they'll suck you in!
Yesterday, abruptly, the game-of-the-week changed - to collecting tadpoles.
Yes, look out innocent frog-youth, your days are numbered. The human-youth has figured out where you are and they are scooping you up faster than you can say boo (or is that ribbit?). For three hours after school today , my kids scooped up tadpoles and made habitats for them and accidentally spilled those habitats and made more habitats and asked me questions like, Do tadpoles bite? Will a red worm eat a tadpole? I, on the other hand, spent those same 3 hours fretting over whether my kids would pick up some strange parasite, telling them not to put their fingers in their mouths, and generally worrying about the tadpoles until I surrendered my mother hen feelings and decided that tadpole collecting was a normal, innocent childhood activity that would not inflict death and disease on my children (the tadpoles, on the other hand, might not be so fortunate ...)
Now, if I could just figure out what to do with all those containers of tadpoles left on my front porch ...
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