Sitting here on my grandchildren’s outdoor swing set. Feet resting on the rung of the ladder with the warmth of the setting sun shining on me. A time if peace as I enjoy watching and listening. I smile at the boys playing in the big mud patch, their boots are black with mud. Their imaginations unleashed with no inhibitions. They play and almost could write their own little books as they invent their own little storylines. They push the bulldozers through the mud as if they are running their own massive mud pit. I wonder which one is the boss as one says, “You go over there and I will go here.”  

“David, you pretend to pull me out of the mud.” 

The conversations between them mesmerize me. Oh, how much more, as I am a grandmother, I appreciate their childhood antics. Their world is so safe and the only concern might be is if they want the same toy. Through their bantering they are already learning their negotiation techniques. Learning how to share and work together. Voice their frustrations or celebrate their happiness. I have to go now as I have a big problem to resolve. The tractor is too muddy. I better get out the water hose. Nanna is being called. “Can you clean my tractor for me.”So many joys to behold.