dirtball

my mother in law reminds me every once in a while that when tayloe was a little boy, he really liked dirt. she found handfulls of mud or worms or rocks - most of the time all three - in his pockets, in his shoes, behind his ears. i think he pretty much lived in the creek behind their house.
i never really thought to ask if he was the only one of her four children who was so dirt-friendly, but knowing what i know now i'll guess yes.
i thought i was prepared for a kid who likes dirt. i mean, most children like playing outside and most children get dirty. it's part of being a kid.
i just didn't think it'd happen so soon and i didn't think my child would be so fond of it. so very, very fond of it.
i feel like every time we go outside, i should just strip him down because no matter what he's going to find a puddle or a hole or a dirt pile. and no matter what, a few hours later i'm going to be rubbing shout into this clothes.
even when there isn't any visable dirt trouble in site, he still manages to get really, really dirty. i have no idea how this happens.
today we went for a walk at the marina, where he found every puddle and what seemed like every speck of dirt (and every leaf, and every pine cone, and every rock) there was to be found. as long as he's safe, i usually let him go to town because .... well, because that's what my intuition tells me to do. i can always clean him up.
when it was time to go i loaded him into the car, dirt and all. don't you know he fell asleep.
shit.
do i wake him up and take the dirty clothes off? or do i just put him in bed and give everything a goop bath later?
wake him up? put him in bed dirty? wake him up? put him in bed dirty?
against all my natural instincts, i put him in bed. dirty.
girls don't go to bed dirty. we have immaculate, well-practiced bedtime washing rituals. we have 7 different kinds of shampoo. if it weren't for women, soap wouldn't sell.
he can't possibly sleep like that, i thought. for sure he'll wake up, totally uncomfortable and begging me to put him in something clean. (god, please let him wake up so i can put something clean on him.)
2 hours later i heard him. i went to peek and he was sitting happily in his crib playing peekaboo with his sleepy piece.
i wish i could have enjoyed what was a cute moment, but it was way more than i could handle.
once he was tidied up he ran to the back door, demanding to go outside. like an idiot i opened it and before i could catch him, he had a fist full of leaves and was heading for wolly's dog bowl.
i. am. tired.