When you are an almost-four-year-old boy, there are a lot of treasures waiting to be found.
“Oh look Mom at this beautiful leaf!”
“An acorn! Let’s take it home and plant it.”
“This rock is pretty!”
And it all goes into the pocket.
Snips and snails, dirty pockets and dirty fingernails, carefree autumn days — if only I could put these things in my pocket.