Obviously these were taken a few days ago, because it’s been cold and blustery here since Friday, but we did manage to have some fun outside this week.
Mitchell figured out that the lid was left off his sandbox during the last storm, and it was filled to the brim with water. Even after I poured out all I could, he still managed to make himself a muddy mess. It was bad. Funny, but bad. He went straight into the shower.
We even got to visit a farm! It’s a public park, but it’s also a functioning farm. They have cows, horses, pigs, piglets, sheep, but Mitchell’s favorites were the turkeys and chickens. I was scared to death of the tom turkey (childhood trauma from our own devil reincarnated turkey), so I wouldn’t let him too close to the turkey. I overheard a mom pushing her son closer to the turkey and telling him turkeys were nice, and I wanted so badly to yell “No they aren’t! They’re evil! Run away!” But I managed not to. And I don’t think I traumatized my son, either. I might have put a little too much emotion into recounting the stories of our turkey to the other mom we went with, because she looked a little traumatized, but hey. At least her son won’t have scars down his legs from turkey attacks. I’m totally going to have nightmares tonight.
Oh, and Mitchell managed to lock himself into a stable in the barn. The lock was on the inside of the door. The wall was too tall for me to reach up and over to unlatch it, so I had to put Rosie down on the awesome clean floor, climb the wall, and let him out. Then he just wanted to do it all again. Meh.
This was his face by the end of our excursion. He also had a giant scrape and bruise on his knee and a few scratches on his hands. So, yeah, it might have been a fairly authentic day at the farm for him.