Snapshot: The Hole

I promised myself that each day this month I would write one post.  My brain is very tired tonight so I settled on finding a picture and telling the story behind it.  This photo makes me laugh every time I see it. At the time, Daniel was five and Ben was four. 
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Once upon a time, very shortly after we moved into house, I found myself in the kitchen cooking.  That's not too surprising.  I think all I ever do is make dinner or get someone a snack or a cup of milk or  . . . . well, you get the picture.  This particular day, all three boys (this was back when we only had three kids) were playing in the backyard. 

Suddenly Ben, age 4, burst through the back door, his little body shaking with excitement.  "Mom, you have to come.  Daniel's stuck."

"Stuck?" I asked.  Out of all three (now four) of the kids, Ben is the  one most likely to exaggerate and/or embellish and/or overreact.  Let's just say, you don't want to be anywhere near him when he stubs a toe.  End. Of. The. World.

He nodded his head vigorously, his brown eyes huge.  "Come on, Mommy."

So, I went.  I followed him outside where he led me to the shed we have in the back corner of our yard.  And this is what I saw:

There beside our shed were two jean clad legs topped with shoes that looked remarkably like Daniel's.  Very faintly, I could hear, "I'm stuck.  I'm stuck."

I, of course, did what any mother would do.  I ran back inside to get my phone and took a picture.  Priorities, priorities. 

"What in the heck happened?" I asked.

"I'm stuck," Daniel called.

"There was a hole," Ben said.

"Okay.  So Daniel decided to get in the hole?"

Ben shrugged his shoulders and gave me a look that said something like, "Are you new here? Yes, he decided to get in the hole."

"I'm stuck, Mommy." Daniel said again.

I walked over and gently gave his legs a tug.  Nothing happened.  I pulled harder.  Nothing.  He was definitely stuck.  I didn't have a shovel and before I knew it, I was digging in the dirt with my hands.  It took me a solid five minutes of digging before he could wiggle out.

When he was finally free, Daniel stood up, covered in dirt from hair to toe.  The very first thing he did was look at me, grinning, and ask, "Again?"

"No," Ben huffed.  "It's my turn."

Being a boy mom is never boring.