No, I don't have the energy to write an actual poem to the wood chip, but I did want to give it a post of its own since there doesn't seem to be a day that goes by without me having some kind of encounter with a wood chip. The ground of our little community park is covered in wood chips, and they bring LB no end of amusement. I'm also always finding wood chips on the floor of our house, and I suspect this is probably one way they travel into our home . . . by catching a ride on LB's bum. Sneaky things!
One of the hip activities among the 2 and under crowd at the park is to pick up handfuls of wood chips and put them in very inconvenient places, such as the bottom of the slide or on the "big kid" swings, as LB is demonstrating below. All these conniving little babies are probably just waiting for someone to come along, plop down on a swing, and get a bum full of chips.
Here, LB exams a wood chip more closely. I'm sure she is thinking about whether or not she can get away with eating it.
And, finally, here she is hard at work among the chips.
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