Eating Dirt

So, my wife decided that since we can’t go anywhere, she wants me to put in a pool, so we can swim in the backyard. She bought a pool last year, but it was a disaster, because the success of the pool is directly dependent on the ground underneath it being level. Since our backyard slopes in the back to allow for better drainage, this negated our ability to put the pool up properly. Thus, we were only able to fill it maybe a quarter of the way up, which is tantamount to sitting in a puddle on a sunny day.

So, this time around, she wanted me to build a retaining wall, so we could level part of the yard for the pool. This was and is still a huge undertaking. Building the wall is fine, but leveling it is tough. Plus our backyard is essentially just rocks and clay. To her credit, my wife did come out and try to help me, but Troy was being a nuisance, so she couldn’t stay out long. He was running around splashing in the mud and eating the dirt. Yes, you read that correctly, he was eating the dirt. What prompted him to even stick it in his mouth in the first place, I don’t know. But what prompted him to chew and swallow it, is even more of a mystery.

It instantly reminded me of my stepfather. We were working up at my mom’s and his lake house one time, and I had dirt fly in my mouth. Unlike Troy, I flipped out. I’m a germaphobe, and I do not like dirt in my mouth. I was spitting and looking for some water, when my stepfather said, “It’s okay. We all have to eat a pound of dirt before we die.” I don’t know if that’s true, but I’m pretty sure after today, Troy has hit his quota!