Observed this morning on the playground:
Two little girls–I’d say five or six years old–playing in the sandbox. They have a giant water bottle filled about half way to the top with water, and they’re scooping sand into it little by little, intermittently mixing it with a stick.
A little boy of approximately the same age runs over. “Wow! What are you making? I want to help!”
The girls glance up but don’t give him much acknowledgement. They continue to work on their concoction.
He makes another attempt. “Oh yum!” he says.”It looks like spaghetti and meatballs and giant slices of watermelon!”
He grabs a stick and runs behind one of the girls who is stirring. He hovers over her shoulder, trying to get a better look. “Let me help! We can make cupcakes, too!”
The girls look up at him, noticeably irritated. “No!” they say. “Stop it! We’re not making any of that stuff!”
The boy looks puzzled.
“We’re making dirty water.”