Saturday, September 1, 2007

Enter Sandman....



Thursday, He-man and I went to check out the famous sandbox of Prospect Park, Brooklyn. Of course, as I set out, I had no idea what to expect. So, I asked myself "what would Sonny Crockett wear to a sandbox" and wore my Miami Vice shirt....just to set the mood. (Blame my dad for my taste in fashion...he likes the circa 1981 reruns.)


I knew I had made the right choice when I caught He-man secretly admiring my shirt behind my back (literally).





When we arrived, we realized that the layout was remarkably familiar....just like an ultimate fighting championship cage with sand...except 20 feet shorter walls, no audience, no padding and no judges.
Okay, it was a little bit different from an ultimate fighting championship cage but it did have sand and a little red shovel that brought out some baby blood lust.


Note to self: sandgoatees do not taste as good as they look.
On the whole, the sandbox was a success although mom complained about having to carry a dirty baby back on the bus. She just doesn't understand that sand pugilism is a dirty sport especially amongst dedicated athletes such as He-man and myself. How dirty? How dedicated? Let's just say that we had gritty baths that night and crumbly diapers the next day.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Hi Saxon

You look really cool in your Miami Vice shirt. If your dad chose this, then we think he has good taste!! If you always dress like this, you should have plenty of admirers in the future. Glad you enjoyed the sand.

Love Grandma P and Grandad N