Wonderland

The mind of a child is one of the most amazing things. The best part? Their imagination. And given any sort of time at all, they'll make quick use of it. It's why they're never bored.

Lately here the temperatures have been warming a bit, making things wonderfully slushy and muddy. Though it's been forcasted to get even more snow than we thought possible, we haven't, and the kids are itching to get outside. Today, while my little sick boy Boots had perked up a bit due to the effects of a little motrin (I heart motrin.) even he donned his boots and jacket and took a spin outdoors. I couldn't stop him. (Read: I was otherwise detained as the Dairy Queen.) Couldn't be left out of the fun, could he?

At lunchtime, the kids were telling me all about George* Wonderland. It's their very own place (right next to the city building. hah) where they have a pine cone collection, a snow couch, an ice skating rink (probably a patch of ice), an Army base tree with a pull up bar and a low branch to swing on.

One of the girls made the comment, "Our paradise is George Wonderland."

Sounds amazing, doesn't it? I know you want to go there, too.


*He used his real name, not George.