Parents, your children will wash. Their clothes will wash. Let them play in the mud.

Someone needed to tell my aunt this when I was young. I spent most of my summers and short vacations at my granparents' playing in the woods and creeks. I'd always come in filthy with leaves and twigs (and probably a bug or two) in my hair. My other aunts (dad's acutal sisters) would just put me in the tub and pick the stuff out of my hair. But this one (my uncles second wife) would tell me I could be so pretty if I'd quit playing in the dirt. Then she'd scrub my face, arms and legs and take a hairbrush to my hair (which when you have curly hair and stuff stuck in it, is really painful). Ugh. She was horrible.

Parents, your children will wash. Their clothes will wash. Let them play in the mud.

My mother's philosophy right there. In the summertime when we'd eat popsicles, she'd make us change into our swim suits then sit us outside to eat our popsicles. When we were done, she'd hose us off.

I still think popsicles are outside food. NSM with the hosing, though.

NSM with the hosing, though.

Water from the hose is cold.

Chikat reminds me of the spoof painting of young Jackson Pollock being fed spaghetti and tomato sauce by his mother....

We had school clothes and play clothes, which we changed into as soon as we got home. My mom didn't care how dirty our play clothes got, or even what they looked like, so old faded t-shirts of my dad's or whatever we wanted were okay.

We had school clothes and barn clothes.

We had school uniforms and clothes that weren't school uniforms. We were encouraged to get none of it dirty. Given how easily mango juice washed out, I think we complied decently.

I am very unmotivated today. I have been watching many trailers at the Apple Movie site.

Sumi, you're waiting for the Serenity trailer, aren't you?