Thursday, July 29, 2010

Sandbox

(3 years, 11 months)

Dear Trevor,

Tonight we are meeting the Members Committee at the Nyack Field Club. It is the final stage in our application for membership. Present are three members of the Committee, our sponsors Joel and Carol, and you, me, and Mommy. A big part of the presentation is telling us the location of places and things. After the presentation they ask if we have any questions, and we chat a bit around a few topics. We do not really have any questions.

Then you speak up. ‘Excuse me,’ you say.

Bruce, the head of the committee, said, ‘Yes Trevor?’

You say, ‘Where's the sandbox?’

Bruce points at the windows behind him. He asks if you can see the tall trees. After you assented, he tells you the box is to the right of the trees.

You then say, ‘How big is the sandbox?’

The adults all exchange glances, recognizing the pertinence of the question.

Bruce explains that it is twice as big as the table we were sitting at, which is pretty big. You accept that.

Then you ask, ‘And where do you keep the pails and shovels?’

Bruce fields that one with perfect attention. He then asks if you have any more questions, and you say, ‘Oh no.’

Love, Daddy

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