Hard work

I'm one proud mama lately. Well, I'm a proud mama all the time but especially lately. I'm from the country and can relate better to "hard work" being getting dirty and sweaty rather than sitting here at my computer and shuffling paperwork. Yep! I said it, I don't work hard! My son on the other hand, he gets it and does it. Every evening when we get home from my "hard day of work" (eyes rolling here) Kells promptly changes out of his tennis shoes and puts on his snow boots,(not really sure what that's about but it's his show so I don't question), and goes out back to where we have a nice little patch of dirt. It's about 4x4 in the back yard where grass refuses to grow so it's the sand box. Anyway..... About an hour after Kells runs outside he will come in and show me his hands proudly proclaiming "I've been working hard Mom! Look at how dirty my hands are." To him, it's serious business this "working" in the dirt. He will stomp around the yard looking for his shovel so he can dig out a hole and do his hard work. It's priceless. Now, I'm not saying I want my son to be a dirt mover but if that's what he loves to do then well, I guess he's getting a head start on the work place competition huh?
He does have other interests though. He buckled his belt the other day, put on Luke's work shirt, swam in Luke's shoes and tromped down the hall
Kells: "Mom, I'm going to work."
Mom: "Oh yeah! What do you do there?"
Kells: "Work"
Mom: "Well I know, but what do you do for work?"
Kells: "Shoot people."


and this is when it became apparent that perhaps he needs to be educated on the fact that Daddy hauls around people's money and keeps it secure and even though he carries a gun we all hope he NEVER has to use it.