Anyway, we were at the SandBar in Montgomery last night (before you ask, yes, we took a baby to a bar; but it is an outdoor bar and there were other babies there because it is adjacent to a splash pad - and i was drinking Diet Coke. I promise I'm not a terrible mother).
We were celebrating my cousin's 17th birthday and cooking out with some live music before the Biscuits baseball game. And because it is the "Sand"Bar, there was a huge pile of sand, which I avoided for a long time, but then thought, "I bet she would love the sand!" and then, against my better judgement, I plopped her down on the pile.
And she LOVED it. She picked it up over and over again and let the tiny grains run though her fingers. She was so genuinely excited every single time she got the same outcome. Then, she learned to bury her feet...and my feet...and my legs...and her legs...and her hair...
And then I made her get out because it was time to go to the game and it was the end of the world. I was still shaking sand out of her clothes at bedtime.
In other news, she watched her first baseball game last night! I use the term "watched" loosely, but still...
And Happy Birthday, Mason! Thanks for a fun night!
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