Tom has, apparently, picked up something of my affinity for sticks. I often catch him waving, poking or fishing with them. He likes to give them to me and sometimes we indulge in a rudimentary kind of swordplay. Boys! Always naughty little warriors!
Weekdays I take him to parks for a change of scene for the both of us. I guess all boys like puddles, creeks and ponds. Water holds a deep fascination, especially if its running. Then, if you have a trusty stick or two, you can prod and poke and even have a stick race. I must admit that leaves get less snagged as a rule, but the stick is a fine boat all the same. Certainly Tom thinks so.
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