He whole-heartedly approved of the mess when we reached official "Dad project" status which became apparent when half the garage's contents were strewn about the backyard; completely filthy with pond slime and grime. The scene was a complex composition of items including rakes and shovels, buckets, pruning shears, utility knife, bags of gravel, the garden hose, fertilizer tablets, new pots, dechlorinator, IPOD and player, extension cord, wet vac, fly swatter (Justin HATES Mayflies), Mountain Dew and a sippy cup.
Missy looked on with minimal interest, only concerned with maintaining reasonable separation from all items that could get her wet, make loud noise, or pull her tail and ride her like a small horse. Justin bubbled with excitement, and was anxious to help. He beamed with pride as he helped carry things when my hands were too full, then quivered with nervousness as his first marching orders were given. This requires lengthy explanation. Baling 400 gallons of muddy water and pond scum with a 5 gallon bucket and carrying it to an acceptable dumping location is back breaking work, but buying proper pumps for such a task seems a bit excessive considering the economic climate.
Preposterous as it may be, my best solution with available tools involved placement of the 9 gallon wet vac next to a drain inlet at the rear of the garden, and running 10' of hose and extenders to the pond to suck out the water, then tip the base to dump it down the drain once it was full. (No fish were harmed, they were safely removed to the pond water filled Homer bucket where they lurked nervously about the bottom.) This process eliminated carrying water great distances and doubled the volume removed per exchange, but it remained a comically ridiculous, tedious, and overly complicated undertaking. Justin's job, was to toggle the power switch on cue as needed. Frankly he loved the idea of the job from a distance, but the loud scream and whine of the vacuum gave him the willies, and the switch was a bit tricky.
Regardless he did his job dutifully, only missing a couple turns at the controls until the task was completed. This task was only one executed today that would understandably lead a reasonably intelligent adult to ask some questions, but from a 2 1/2 year old it elicited an unending barrage of valid questions headlined by the ever popular "Why is water?" Accompanying each question, his facial expressions betrayed his true thoughts. Why are your hands dirty? "Why is it okay for YOU to get your hands dirty? Could I get away with this?" Why are you taking the water out of the pond? "You threaten us with eternal grounding for merely touching the water! Could I get away with this?" Why are you catching the fish? "That looks like fun. Could I get away with this?" Why are you sticking the vacuum in the pond? "My world has been turned upside down! Could I get away with this?" Why are you putting rocks in the pond? "Why did I get yelled at for doing this 10 minutes ago?"
I understood his confusion. In one afternoon I contradicted myself countless times and broke the house rules continually. Don't get dirty or wet. Don't throw stuff in the pond. Don't put tools in the water. Don't scare the fish. Don't stand on the rocks- a command I issued while standing on a rock 6" to his right as he hugged my leg to get a better view of the fish. Do as I say, not as I do. Someday he will learn there's a time and a reason for breaking the basically good ground rules to accomplish certain greater goals; when the risk to reward ratio and productivity to clean up effort make sense. Right now he just thinks Dad is crazy and frustrating, but Dad sometimes lets him do some really fun things.
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