Sticks and Stones

So we're in the car bringing mams to our house to babysit. We are having an in depth conversation about how electronic toys are inhibiting both of my sons imaginative play. (Which is actually something I had been thinking about, but it all comes down to having the time to play with a wooden toy with them. You know?) Mams starts in on the 'when I was a kid' tyrade and we are all pretty intrigued. "My father took old soup cans, punched holes in them, tied strings to them and we wore them as stilts." Wow. That's pretty impressive honestly. I'm trying to imagine balancing my 5'10" frame with size 10's on a tin can. Not a pretty sight even in my head. "Then we'd play kick the can. Someone would kick the can and everyone would run and hide." Sounds like 'hide and seek' but I still can't find a use for the can. However, it does have me wondering about how much soup they ate.

Beaux, sitting attentively while mams recounts her childhood, finally pipes up and says, "Mams, Daddy only had leaves and sticks to play with when he was a boy. Sometimes, if he was really good, his daddy gave him some rocks."

The entire car goes silent. I look at Steve, who is pretending not to hear...