After this one.
Because it is evidence of a phenomena that I am scared I will never (ever) see again except in my dreams.
Dan came home proclaiming that school was so much fun and appeared genuinely excited to go back.
All is right with the world.
You know those exercises where you look at a picture filled with various items in a relatively normal scene and you have to pick out what is wrong with the picture?
This is NOT one of those pictures because everything in this image doesn't belong. (Now I'm singing "One of these things is not like the other, which one is it, can you tell?)
Two summers ago, that hole started out just big enough to bury a rabbit in. I let it go because Daniel loved to turn it into a construction site or a monster truck arena or just to dig. Digdigdigdigdig. Now it's big enough to bury a small pony in and I don't know whether I'm more frightened of falling in this gaping dusty void happening in our otherwise normal yard, or the fact that I keep comparing it to burial sites.
Either way, it's starting to wig me out and so, as a tribute to the closing of the summer season, I think it's time to say goodbye to what has become like a reliable old friend to Dan and Kate. (ok, when I put it like that it's a lot harder to get rid of the stupid thing)
Because soon I'll start calling it "the pit of despair" in a strangely raspy voice and threaten the kids with it. As in "If you don't pick up your toys right now, I'm going to throw them into the pit of despair and it will swallow them whole, digesting them slowly for over a thousand years."
Yeah, something like that.
Maybe I'll leave it alone a little longer...