We're so ghetto.

I've said it before. I'm a ghetto Mom, "not that anything's wrong with that". Especially with Colin though, I've used dishrags, clean socks (c'mon they're clean) or me, him (you get the point) as a burp cloth. A towel when I couldn't find a blanket at GMs. Clean socks (who knew they had so many uses) as nursing pads (yes, I've now admitted everything); but certain ones Brett has are super absorbant. The list goes on really.

Which brings us to today. Oh goodness. I mean usually we keep this stuff to ourselves and in the privacy of our own home, maybe amongst family. But today our ghettoness ventured out to the public. No, I did not have my camera, and yes it would add to the humor.

We went to the lake. We started out pretty much being the only ones there (some chick had a loungechair with her Ipod, newspaper and was smoking a butt and then two really important guys from the dock committee were doing something really important). The lake, this early in the season had its' usual crummy pondscum (no this is not the ghetto part). That doesn't stop 2 little boys and their father (it does stop me btw). MacGyver found a styrofoam, about 4 12-packs cooler top to skim the water with, have you. Pretty soon it was a highly treasured kickboard. Actually, some fierce competition struck up tug-o-war fashion (missed photo op #2), which Dad stepped in and broke up before the real winner could be declared. Anyway, the kids took turns having a BLAST with their new kickboard. I mean, I was really proud of them too. They took directions very well on proper posture, holding their arms out straight on it, they practiced their kicking. Later when the beach started to fill up a bit more and I noticed the kickboards the other kids had, I turned to Brett and said "we are so ghetto".

We left our kickboard there. Maybe it will bring happiness to some other kid(s). Instead we took home a little ball we found, as Aiden calls it "a hard bubble" with a car in it. Forget the "maybe the little boy who lost it will come back looking for it; you'd want someone to leave it if you lost it". Finders keepers, losers weepers!