My thumbs were green and muddy

My thumbs were green and muddy

I have loved playing in a garden since I was a small child. Digging in the dirt, pulling weeds, and planting seeds and plants were what I loved to do.

When I was very small, my parents would indulge my love of playing in the dirt. As I got older, they were less patient with my tendencies. To distract me, I was given a bike and taught to ride it. That was fun, but digging in the dirt was even more so.

One summer we had copious amounts of rain, which turned our lawn and gardens into muddy messes. It also made the ground much easier to dig into. Grabbing my gardening tools, I ran outside to plant some seeds. Digging in mud to plant a garden is not a good idea. I was about to learn that.

The first thing that happened was I slipped and fell into the largest mud hole in our yard. Mud is very sticky, and I was covered with it from head to toe. Because I was already dirty, I stayed in that mud hole and tried to plant my flower seeds.

About that time my mother saw me. She rushed out to rescue me but was shocked to find me happily digging in the mud. She screamed at me to get out of that wet mess, and I yelled back that I wasn’t finished planting my flower seeds. Mom grabbed my arm, yanked me out of my mud garden and marched me into the house.

She popped me into the tub and demuddied me. I protested strenuously to no avail. I was scrubbed clean. Then I was restricted to my room until further notice. I was furious. I was being unfairly punished for having fun.

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