Of sand and boys

What is it about sand that makes kids want to fling it around everywhere? Even my usually gentle son goes a little ga-ga when he goes to a sandy park. He rolls around in it, digs in it and flings handfuls of it all over himself and around in a wide circle.

A few days ago, we were at the park adjoining the Santa Clara gymnastics center, for some play after Ads' gym class. My mommy radar, zooming in and out, instantly picked out an older kid, about 5 or 6, looking for trouble. Ads was peacefully playing by himself and this other kid had his hands full of sand and I just knew that he was going to throw it in Ads' face. I silently glared at him (thankfully I was wearing my sunglasses otherwise I might've found it hard to explain why I was intimidating some random kid). He stared back at me. I kept glaring, just daring him to move a muscle in Ads' direction. In a few seconds, he dropped the sand he was holding and went off to play at the monkey bars.

Whew -- mini-crisis averted!