Rocks in his Socks

No, not really in his socks. I just liked that it rhymed.

But there are rocks in his pockets just about every day.

You guys, I did laundry last night and FOUR rocks were collected from my dryer!

FOUR!

What is it with little boys and rocks? I just don't get it. Is it because each rock is different? Do their differences make them special and collectable?

I'm not kidding you, every day I pick them up from daycare, Thomas Trouble tries to convince me to bring the ones in his hands home. And every day I tell him that he needs to leave them and that they will be there waiting for him tomorrow.

And despite my pleas to EMPTY YOUR POCKETS NOW, he still manages to smuggle some into the house.

As I was emptying my dryer of rocks for the umpteenth time, I tried to remind myself that this too shall pass. That one day, I'll probably miss finding these rocks.

I don't like rocks in my dryer, but I do cherish the treasures that come with little boys! And some day, there won't be any.