Working in a coal mine. . .

Workin' in a coal mine

Goin' down down down

Workin' in a coal mine

Whop! about to slip down



The lyrics to the old Lee Dorsey song are what go through my head when I watch my boys play on the beach. By the ocean, every kid has his game of choice. Some like paddle ball, others the boogie board. Some work diligently on sand castles, complete with sea shell kings and queens. But my boys, my boys like to dig.

We have a "only take what you can carry" rule when it comes to beach time, which pretty much means that each boy can take two toys--one for each hand. Will never varies in his beach toy choices--in one hand, his faithful boogie board, which he lets trail behind him as he pulls it by its leash, and in the other hand, a shovel. The handle of the shovel is bigger than he is. He purposefully swings the shovel up over his shoulder and marches off for a long day of play.

Once we hit the sand, Will finds his spot. As I set up my chair and towel, he starts to dig. And he digs until he hits water. Then he picks another, seemingly random spot, and begins the process again.

Today was no different. Will put his dowsing skills to work and diligently began to dig. But instead of water, he found treasure. No, not chests filled with gold and gems, but little boy treasure. He found parts of a horseshoe crab shell and various parts and pieces of other dearly departed crustaceans. With his big shovel, he plopped each find into my open beach bag, hoping to take his treasure home, to protect it all summer long, and to take it with him for show-and-tell on the first day of the second grade.

Will does not dig alone. Carter is often his partner in crime. And, the two of them have made fast friends with our new summertime neighbors, two boys next door named Michael and Matthew. Maybe it is a boy thing, because they love to dig, too.

Most of the time, I'm happy to supervise the digging process. Today, the moms got to join in. I'm not quite sure how it started, but before we knew it, we had four boys buried up to the neck in sand.

And then, after a long day of watching the boys' beach labors, we suddenly found ourselves with four still, quiet boys. And we enjoyed about five minutes of peace before their digging began. . .again.