We have a pile of seed packets, two long window boxes and a hefty bag of dirt. “Let’s decide what to plant… Do you like Rosemary?”
“How about Sage?”
Does Mingus actually know what Sage tastes like? Maybe…. probably not. Even I am unsure exactly what Summer Savory tastes like, but we’re going to plant that too. I explain, “We need to fill the boxes with dirt.” And ask, “Do you want to be in charge of that?” Mingus looks at the sealed bag of dirt and declares, “I need a metal pointy scissor.” He cuts across the bag, but struggles to get the shovel in, until he cuts crossways and folds back the plastic.
Like many three-year olds, Mingus is a dirt and sand man. He adeptly transfers dirt into each window box. After a few elegant scoops, he becomes efficient. “I made the hole bigger so we can dump it. It’s way easier to dump the dirt.” It’s an outdoor technique. Dirt flies up into the air as we pour the dirt directly from the bag. “Oopps Eeee!” Mingus quickly makes himself look useful, placing his hands right into the window boxes, saying “I need to spread the dirt even.” Just as I finish sweeping the floor, he declares his task also complete, “Ok! Now it’s just right!”
We place the packets of herbs evenly apart on top of the soil.
Mingus has been studying up on tractors and has a particular fascination with the box drill attachment. It’s a big machine that drops seeds underground. Thrusting his finger into the dirt every two inches, Mingus looks up to explain, “I’m drilling holes.” We’re planting herbs and holes aren’t necessary. We can just spread the seeds and sprinkle a little dirt on top. But being a box drill is fun, so I keep my mouth shut.
Mingus retrieves the scissors and carefully slices the edge off the bag. But apparently, it’s a skill to hold a bag of seeds upright. Those little sage seeds scattered everywhere. Mingus and I swept them into a pile and deposited as many as we could into the soil. I won’t be surprised if herbs start growing out from between our floorboards.
After spreading the seeds into the dirt, Mingus broke out in a big grin. “The dirt was tickling me! It tickled my hands! Hee hee! Hee hee!”
I never knew “hee hee” was a real laugh, but now I’ve heard it.
With the window boxes in front of the window, Mingus waters the seeds and soil. I know he has heard my instruction to move the watering can back and forth when he stares at a puddle, tilts the can back upright and explains, “I need to let the water soak in.” They are large window boxes and once Mingus has watered close to him, he ponders the far dirt for a moment. Then, he thrusts his arm out and declares, “I extended the boom!” Who knew studying construction cranes would be so useful?