God made the dirt

This morning Anonybabe and I took our breakfast on the lawn -- we ate a tomato and scrambled eggs and toast on a "t-shirt" quilt Anonyhub's mom made for him when he graduated from high school...it has nine squares that are the faces of his nine favorite t-shirts from high school. There are two that feature a gorilla and are about his summer corn detasselling job, one Escher tee, one extremely pixelated band t-shirt (his own), and some so embarrassing to Anonyhub that I won't include them even an anonymous blog.

From our breakfast blanket, Anonybabe crawled over to a freshly weeded corner of the garden and started flinging dirt. At first she threw it to the side, and then tried to throw it over her shoulder so that most of it landed on her back, and finally she stood up and started rubbing it all over her chest. Repeatedly. Chica loves earth. She also sneezed her pacifier out into the dirt and put it back into her mouth; when she spit it out again and let me brush most of the dirt off her tongue, she had a clown mouth of mud.

We have new neighbors moving in next door and they were back and forth from their house to the moving van in the alley. They could easily see us digging away in the garden, and I instantly became the white trash neighbor in my own mind. Muddy baby in a droopy diaper? Classic. Then I one upped myself by bathing her in her kiddie pool in the back yard.