Dirt

Spring has finally arrived. It is quite typical for seven or more boys and a few sisters to be running around our yard on most days. Every pair of jeans has a hole or a stain. Dirt is ground into palms and smeared on cheeks. My yard is littered with balls, sticks, and shed sweatshirts. My yard grows in patches. Creeping charlie can barely survive around the invisible "bases" and "end zones." I love it. Grass is overrated.