I remember when Narls got his first playdough- it was a gift he received on his third birthday. I had a huge smile plastered on my face but I was internally groaning; not playdough.
We waited a while until we opened the set. I put it off as long as I could. Narls insisted though and Em was there at his side, insisting as well, not knowing what it was she was demanding, just knowing that her brother wanted it so it must be something she'd love as well.
I've never cared for playdough. Maybe because we didn't play with it much growing up; my mom didn't like the mess. I opened the set slowly, anticipating that mess, the little tiny pieces of dough that would harden on the rug, annoying our bare feet as we walked over it.
But I opened it nonetheless and what fun we had! Now I look forward to playing playdough. To the volcanos and cupcakes and piggies and unicorns that we create.
I look forward to Narls shouting "build me a kitty mumma!" and "make me a frwog daddy!". I laugh trying to swat down Em's hands as she laughs while trying to eat it. Clay and I delight in our happy babies and their great imaginations.
And if that means we have a messy house, that's fine. Hardened playdough crumbs on the floor is a small price to pay.