Rockin’ Out

rock_d_apr-08.jpgWelcome to Rock Day, the day set aside by the Halverson Clan to do everything “rock.” We kicked off the festivities this morning over bowls of Cheerios. Taking out a large purple Sharpie, I wrote R-O-C-K on an index card. “Today is Rock Day,” I announced. The boys didn’t care or they didn’t hear; they were too busy marveling at the uncanny resemblance of the 2nd letter on the card to the cereal in their bowls.

“Wook, Mommy, we’re eating heroes!”
“Actually,” I said, “you’re eating oh’s. When you’re talking about letters, the round circle is an ‘oh.’ Zeroes are for numbers.”
“Oh.”
“Indeed.”

As soon as our oh’s and zeroes were consumed (and vacuumed from the rug under their stools), we loaded up the Halverson Bus and headed for the hills, a whopping three-minute drive. Rock Day was underway!

Donning sunhats and weilding personally selected walking sticks (yes, I know, three-year-olds with sticks…we like to live on the edge) we went on a rock hunt around the lake. Or rather, we threw every rock laying next to the lake into the lake. All in all, I bet we tossed in about a million. It was inevitable, I know. After all, what boy can be that close to a huge body of water with his hands full of rocks and not huck them in? For that matter, what girl can?

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I do believe the shore is now six inches shorter than before the Halversons visited. And the lake is six inches higher.

But the lake’s sacrifice was worth it: Introducing Peebie, Peebie, and Fwahmer, the Halversons’ new pet rocks. While it’s true that I swore we’d never have pets because its always the mom who ends up taking care of them, I will make an exception for naturally occurring aggregates of minerals. Rocks are low maintenance as far as pets go. No need to feed them, water them, or wash them. And I won’t have to do yard patrol with a shovel every time the boys want to go out to play. Rocks are my kinds of pets, hands down.

Unfortunately, the rocks didn’t seem as happy about their change of life as we did; they seemed to be looking rather forlorn so far from their natural home. Downright ashen, in fact. So, we perked them up a little.

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There now, much better, dontcha think?

We ended the day with an on-theme Book of the Night: If You Find a Rock, one of my favorite picture books of all time. It strikes a chord of high nostalgia in anyone who’s ever kicked a rock ahead of them while walking to school… which is surely everybody on the planet. Here’s a peek:

if-you-find-a-rock.jpgIf you find a rock,
a big rock,
by the edge of the water,
then you have found a splashing rock.
When it hits the surface,
the water jumps
out of the way,
raining back down
on your outstretched hands.
The bigger the rock,
the wetter you get.

Hiking, hunting, hucking, painting, and poetry. Yes indeedy, Rock Day was perfect. So perfect, in fact, that we’ve decided to continue it tomorrow. I’ve already stocked up for the grand finale: The creation of Mt. Halverson. Inspired by a YouTube clip of the Mt. Rushmore presidents singing a capella, tomorrow the boys will be sculpting their Play Dough into our next president. Care to guess which candidate the Wee Halvey’s are backing? I’ll give you a clue: They believe our next president actually comes as a set of three.

For now, though, our three next presidents are tucked snugly into their beds . . . and sleeping like rocks.

One Response so far.

  1. Heidi says:

    Wow Debbie, 3-year-olds with sticks and throwing rocks. You are really pushing the envelope.