We went icicle picking today to get the last icicles of the season… I hope. We have a rail trail near our house with lots of rock formations on either side, which make great places for the icicles to grow. We’ve been doing this for about 7 years now.
Even though it reached 60 degrees, we found plenty of porous ice just waiting to be kicked by a 9-year-old boy in brand new size 6 hiking boots. Which, by the way, are now caked with 13 different types of deer poop. I’m like “Can’t you see that pile? He’s like “What pile?” Sigh.
Jack: Turn around for a sec…
me: Why, what are you — Oh. Didn’t you just go?
Jack: I have to go again.
me: Write your name in the snow there, haha.
Jack: Mom, I don’t drink enough water to do that!!!
Sh*t My 6-Year-Old Says (but he's 18 now) 