… is in the diaper.

And I’m not talking about anatomy.

This morning Jen took Addy and Colston to a playgroup hosted by some friends in our church community.

They have a lovely flower garden and the father often takes Colston outside to walk and play.

Dad was out of the house today, so the 9 year old son was kind enough to take Colston out for his romp.

At one point Jen looks out and sees our boy sitting on a pebbled path and dropping the pebbles over his head and down his back.

After playgroup Jen and the kids met me for lunch at Ruckus– which is currently in our rotation of favorite local spots for their huge slices of pizza and great service.

Colston didn’t sit through the entire meal.

I was a touch annoyed to say the least.

About an hour later, Jen calls to tell me that Colston has rocks in his diaper.

This isn’t a metaphor.

He literally had pebbles in his pampers.

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Apparently as Colston dumped the rocks over his head, they found their way down his back and into his pants.

No wonder he couldn’t sit still.

Boys.

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