Rock Collector

I'll tell you what...I just love my little boy!! What a sweetheart he is! He's a little past 2 1/2 now, and just as cute as can be. Little P has two big brown eyes and eyelashes so thick and long they make every woman jealous. Sometimes I can't even look at him when he's in trouble, because he bats those eyes and flashes a smile that makes me want to just laugh and hug him to pieces.

Beyond this, though, he is very much a little boy. Rough and tumble all day long. He loves just about anything with wheels, from trucks to trains to tractors to cars. If it rolls, it makes him happy. And along with this wheel fascination, he also loves rocks. He collects them everywhere. Parking lots, side walks, our gravel path (much to his father's chagrin). This fascination also slows down our walks tremendously. He seems to think he should bring home every rock he sees. In fact, we'd be overflowing with rocks if we didn't throw some aside when he isn't paying attention. As it is, he already has a plastic peanut butter jar 2/3 full of them. Luckily, he hasn't caught onto the fact that if he puts them in the jar, they aren't coming out. "Put your rocks in the jar sweetheart." "Ok, Mama." Later: "Open Mama, Rocks." "Oh, I'm sorry sweetie, the lid is stuck." Oh, the little white lies necessary to keep rocks from spreading throughout the house...