Dirt, glorious dirt

Last night when DH got home he took the girls outside and let them play in the sprinkler while I rested for a little while. Then they all helped our next-door neighbors clean up the dirt in their driveway. (Said neighbors added a load of fill dirt to their back yard this week.)

The girls got to help sweep (both of them holding onto the push-broom together) and then they got their little plastic sandbox shovels and helped shovel dirt.



When they finally came into the house, they were tired, wet, happy, and absolutely filthy (one of M's new favorite words). A wasn't too bad once she took off her mud-coated shoes, but M was wearing sandals and looked like she had rolled in the mud.



You know, dear husband, I just might have changed her out of the white shirt before letting her play in the mud. But, hey, I can't complain. I got to rest while DH, the neighbors and the mud entertained the kids.

Our neighbors don't have children and were amazed at us not minding them getting dirty. Isn't dirt one of the best parts of childhood?