Dirt cakes and woodchip pies

Moms, if you spend any regular time with your kids at a playground, I bet you've noticed that there is an attraction even more compelling to little hands and feet than the colorful selection of slides, swings, and climbing walls.

Dirt.
Glorious, fascinating dirt.

Or woodchips.

I don't believe I have been to any of our area playgrounds and not witnessed a kid (or five) playing with the ground covering. And more often than not, they explain to passersby that what they are making is, in fact, some kind of food. Amelia helped one girl make a pizza out of woodchips last week. Today she took dirt from around the baseball field where Daddy was playing and made cupcakes on the bleachers.

When Amelia gets into her dirt projects, there is no convincing her to do anything else.

See those fun swings over there? "Not yet, Mommy. I cook."

Hey, look - a doggie. Want to go see it? "No Mommy, stop! I cooking."

If I bought a square of land and filled it with nothing but with dirt and woodchips, would it become the coolest park around? Possibly. But if other kids are anything like mine, I can bet a wad of money that they'd take one look at it and ask a very simple question.

"But where are the swings?"

Sometimes you just can't win. I've come to accept this. (Sometimes.)