The Boy Who Carries Sticks and Loves to Leap

 Whenever we are out in the woods, Mr. Sneaky Pants is on the lookout for sticks.  Stick hunting and hiking just go together.  While tromping about the trail, the sticks become swords, axes, hammers, walking canes, rakes, and all sorts of things a knight or a pirate might need.  I love that he uses his imagination and has so much fun with such a simple thing.  I don't, however, love the fact that he forgets to be in control of his arms and legs and the sticks usually end up bonking someone else in the family and then are thrown back far into the forest by a parental figure (usually me . . . sometimes Dr. Peds).  This results in drama, loud drama like the peaceful inner realms of the forest have never heard before.  But, looking on the bright side, we are unlikely to happen upon any dangerous wildlife with all that noise.  

Ever disgusted by the prospect of change, my boy despises the thought of outgrowing his clothes and adjusting to a new wardrobe.  It sends him over the edge.  I sneakily try to snatch aside clothing that needs to be placed in the "too small box" in the attic while I'm sorting through laundry in the basement.  I often miss items, and sometimes if I don't hide them quickly enough he finds my stash and reintroduces it to his dresser.  There are several pairs of running pants, like these, which I need to pilfer.

He's always up for adventure, always ready to protect his dear mother from dragons and monsters that might be around the bend.  It's a good thing the forest has so many sticks around.