Dirty Little Secret

We sat baby Judah down in the grass today while we walked around the yard and talked about our garden.  While he's a mostly content little fellow, he wants to be held a lot and doesn't usually like grass.  So, in the back of my mind I was fairly impressed that he was happy there for as long as he was.  He wasn't even looking around to see if we were nearby.  "Good baby," I thought to myself.  "He's learning to entertain himself."

Pfff.  Please.  I scoff at my own stupidity.  By now, I should know better.  I should have known what it was that was keeping him so wholeheartedly occupied.

DIRT

DIRT

MORE DIRT

You know what else I should have known?  I should have known that if you are a two year old who sees their parents and siblings laughing hysterically at the baby who just ate dirt, you are going to sneak away and eat dirt in secret too.  After all, it might taste like candy and even if it doesn't, everyone will think you are some kind of comedic genius. Claire came around the corner while I was snapping Judah's picture, spitting and wiping her tongue, saying, "Eees not taste good."  

   Whoops.  Well, lesson learned I guess.  Dirt not taste good.