Eating Grass & Fire-Resistant Pajamas

First, really quick, my friend Annjilla is trying to find someone. She is looking for a database, or a resource like unto it, or really anything, to find someone who rented a house next door to her when she was a little girl. If you have any advice or help for her please leave a comment on her blog post, click: HERE. This is really important to her. Thanks!

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We went on two walks this evening. On our second walk, we went to this place an the end of our condo complex. It is this really picturesque, grassy hill, spiced up with some trees and shrubbery. Situated high above the road, it gives a good view as well. We like to let the kids roam around there on occasion. As we were frolicking about, Nate would often chew on grass stems. The grass there has many opportunities for that sort of thing. Ellie did not like Nate chewing on grass stems at all. She wanted daddy to stop! When enough was too much, Ellie grabbed the grass out of Daddy's mouth, chucked it to the side, and told Daddy to, ".....never eat grass again!!!" Seeing that this was a little too much sass from our four year old, Daddy decided to discreetly pick another grass stem and chew on it. Ellie found out about it. I think we finally did ourselves proud and told Ellie, "No." We told Ellie that Daddy can eat grass if he wants to, and she would just have to deal with it. Ellie declared that we don't eat plants. Daddy reminded Ellie that broccoli, carrots, and potatoes are plants. But Ellie was not fooled. I guess four-year-olds are too shrewd to be tricked into thinking that grass and carrots are the same thing. Daddy tried again, and proceeded to explain that grass is like an herb. "What's an herb Daddy?" To which he replied, "An herb is a plant.......with.......special qualities." "And flavors.", I notably added. This intrigued the young one. The wheels started turning in her little mind. "I want to try it!" or perhaps it was actually, "I want one too." Either way, she ate her grass, and was grateful. William, of course, affably joined in as well.

Don't see the grass? Look harder.....

Later that evening, actually it was closer to midnight than evening, it was time for bed. Finally. I took the opportunity to dress Master William for bed. I picked out those tight pajamas. You know? The kind that you have to buy at least 2 sizes too big just to be able to pull them over your child's flailing limbs. Well, I was thinking about the known fact that they are so incredibly tight because they are supposed to be fire-resistant. What a comforting thought. What I want to know is: Why are we only worried about our children catching fire at night? Why don't we always dress them in fire-retardant materials? Because I am pretty sure, after discussing this with Nate, that our child is more likely to catch fire during the day. At night, he is secured. We keep him locked up at night........in his crib. He has limited access to flammables. Not that I'm saying I let him play with matches, but he is a wily little boy. He'll be one of those little boys at scout camp. You know the ones. The ones who light themselves on fire--perhaps while trying to blow up their plastic cups. Okay, well actually, to give him some credit, Will does have an appreciation for things that are hot. "Hot. Owie!", he says. But that doesn't change the intrigue of the fire itself. Something happens to the twelve year old brains of boys. They suddenly think they can light things on fire and not get burned. And so I think, he is still more likely to catch fire during the day and at scout camp. Will is going to Father and Sons with Nate in a few days. This is like an overly supervised scout camp, with an overly large number of supervisors who still like fire even though they are all grown up. I think I better pack Will his fire-resistant pajamas and nothing else.....