The dogs days of summer are coming to an end, finally.  I am sitting on my back porch in the shade, there is a breeze, its 84 and the two dogs are laying here by me; in short - perfect.  Yesterday afternoon was just as nice.  Offspring and a friend played in the sand box volleyball court in our neighborhood after taking the dogs for a really long walk.  I left them there to play longer while I brought the dogs home as I had to start dinner.  Offspring's dad happened by while I was at home making dinner and thankfully gave me a heads up (see how I got that cute little volleyball reference in) that Offspring had been buried to his neck - YES HIS NECK - in sand when he got there.  Grrrrrreat.

I decided to scuttle my previous plan of just having him take off his shoes and shirt when he got home. I had already posted a giant sign on the door that said

STOP!  

TAKE OFF CLOTHES  

THEN KNOCK!  

DO NOT COME IN!

I needed instead take more drastic measures.  So I waited on the driveway when his dad said they were coming back. I sent his friend home and directed Offspring round to the front porch where I was watering the flowers with the hose.  That was the cover story anyway.  I told Offspring to take his shirt and pants off - behind all the flowers and rail no one could see him strip down to his skivvies I said, and much to my shock he did not object; he promptly undressed.  The moment he was (mostly) naked, I turned the hose on him full.  He shrieked with shock and then started laughing like a wild youthful* hyena, which made me laugh, which made him laugh even harder.  I'm sure our neighbors must have thought we'd lost our damn minds (note: we had).

It took me a good 3-4 minutes to get the sand mostly off.  It was everywhere, and I mean everywhere in on and around his body, every crevice crack and fold.  After I finished hosing him down,  I sent him straight to our shower downstairs where more and more and more sand continued to come off his body.  I had to wash his hair really well to get it all (mostly all) out, and I had really hosed out his hair outside too.  And now there is this very annoying fine layer of sand all over the house - and it figures, Uncle Air Force had swept the floors just that morning.

I can't fathom how any sand is left at the sand box volleyball court.

* I will admit I don't know what a young vs old hyena sounds like, but his tiny little boy voice cackling and laughing was so darn cute that I had to add 'youthful' to this description