The kids and I ended up at an unfamiliar playground the other day. I’ve been sick, so my normal playground activities have been replaced by me just watching. While I sat in the shade of a big old oak tree, they had a great time, meeting and playing with other kids. After everyone else had left, I gathered my kids up and told them it was time to go.

“One more slide?” my youngest asked.

“Sure.”

On the way to the slide, my oldest spotted a two story high pile of red dirt. I don’t know how they’d missed it earlier, maybe because it was a hundred feet or so away, but he immediately started running toward it. His little brother followed.

“No!” I bellowed. I’m not a big guy, but I’ve developed a pretty good bellow. My sons stopped short.

“Why can’t we play in it?” they asked.

“Because it’s red,” I said as I walked over to them.

“So?”

“So if you play in it,” I said. “It’ll get you red.”

My oldest threw both hands up over his head. “Awesome!”

“No,” I said, grabbing their hands before they could take off again.

Note to self: next time, come up with a reason they’d agree with.

Come to think of it, though, I’m not sure I can think of a reason that would keep an 8-year old off a giant pile of red dirt.