I officially have THAT kid. You know, the one on the playground that causes other moms to glare at you in disbelief because he's just done something terrible - not harmful but socially unacceptable (and sometimes gross). I guess the fortunate part is that my kid didn't commit this terrible act in front of anyone, and he made a point of telling me that too.
I picked the boys up from preschool and as always they were filling me in over lunch about what they did at shool. We were discussing the playground, when Sam leaned in like he had something serious and important to say. So, I leaned in to listen. Then he tells me, with a twinkle in his eye, but in his most serious voice, that he peed in the sandbox.
My kid peed in the sandbox at his school.
He peed in the sandbox that his friends like playing in.
He peed in the sandbox that his brother LOVES playing in.
Geez louise. After a brief explanation about why we don't pee in the sandbox, I think that Sam understands that he's not to do this in the future. I guess this is the next step into the downhill descent we call being a boy. I fully exect to walk outside this winter to see yellow snow...