Sandbox Trauma

I had said in my previous post that Grant got a sandbox for his birthday and that I'd do a separate post about it. It's an adorable turtle shaped sandbox that has a moat with little floating squirty toys. So on Sunday during one of Grant's naps, I set up the sandbox. First I dragged the sandbox up to the deck. Then 100 lbs of sand. Then I filled the moat with water and put the squirty toys in it and waited for Grant to wake up. When he did, I put his little swimming trunks on him - my excuse was that A) they're adorable and B) he'd be playing with water toys and needs them, yes? - and brought him outside to the sandbox.

It was all downhill from there. I picked up Grant and stood him in the sandbox. As soon as his feet hit the sand he screamed like I was throwing it at him. He was so loud that Nate came out of the house and asked if Grant had fallen on the deck. So we sat him down and tried to show him it was ok.


But it was apparently not ok.



Oh wait, there are toys. Maybe it is ok.



Nope. It is definitely not ok.

At this point, Nate got in the sandbox to show Grant that it's fun (I should have taken a picture of my Jolly Green Giant husband in that little sandbox). He stood there and stomped in the sand "See buddy? It's ok. It's fun!"


"Oh yeah? If YOU like it so much, it's YOURS!" 

 The whole process only took about 20 minutes. We were afraid to let it carry on too long because Grant really was so loud that the neighbors were probably getting suspicious. We have yet to try again. Maybe if it's nice again this weekend we'll give it another go.