There's no place like home.

There's no place like home.
Home is where my husband and I reside; wherever that may be.

Friday, June 15, 2012

One of these days....

I came out here tonight to sit and work on some research that I had to do and found this poor child with dreams of breaking out of this prison he's in.
I contemplated stopping his obvious plan to use his dump truck as a means of getting him over the gate.  (you know the old "you're going to hurt yourself doing that" thing) But all I could hear in my head was my son the sergeant saying "Let him be a kid and get hurt."  So I left him alone and just took pictures. (I know how weird is that)

That is one forlorn looking kid. Even my hard heart was a little bothered by his sad face, just a little.

Then he looked back.  Ooops! busted.  He stepped right out of that truck and parked it in the sandbox.  I think he read my mind.  Well, all I could think was, "He lived to climb another day!"

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