Not Again

We have a ramp outside where everyone drives their vehicle so they can stand and change their oil, work underneath, etc. It's basically a deep hole with two planks across a few heavy duty posts. Today Jevan took his tricycle out. Do you know where I'm headed with this? Yup, he drove out on the planks and went head first down in the hole. He now has battle scars across his chest heading towards his back along his side. Why, oh why? Do little boys look at these places and think "Wow what a challenge!" not caring about life or limb?

Hubby (he's home from camp) brought him up from the shop, covered in dirt and oil, tears streaming down his face, to see me. Staying clean on this Ranch is something I have long given up on and thank goodness I wasn't wearing a white shirt, because no matter what, I have to kiss and hug the owee's away. After all the trauma was over I asked him what he was going to do? Through his sniffles he said he was going outside to "lift up every rock." The story: Hubby has been extending my garden and all those rocks I threw over the fence for the past seven years need to be moved... again. He's told Jevan there's a surprise under the rocks and for two days Jevan has been lifting any and all rocks he can find, looking for that surprise... and moving the rocks ;) I told Hubby that the boy is going to get real tired, real quick, if he never finds anything. So like I was saying; after all the trauma (and to make him feel better) I secretly shoved 55 cents and one smartie at Hubby and told him to go hide them under a few rocks and within two minutes we were outside looking under rocks.

Guess who found the "surprise"?