Punchline | Yolanda Cowan

We had experienced a down-pour of a rainstorm one day. The following day the ground was left wet and muddy. My four-year-old insisted on going outside to play in his dirt pile. After some debating comversation, I agreed to let him play outside. I was in the house folding laundry when my son came in. He stopped at the edge of the tile entry way and proclaimed he had to get something. When I questioned him and what he needed, he stated he needed to get that black "axe-hammer" thing. It's one of his dad's hammers that has a black head and wooden handle. It is square at one end and tapered to a point at the opposite end. (I don't know the name for it) My son calls it an axe-hammer. I began to explain to him that he couldn't take daddy's tools out and get them wet and dirty. They could rust and get ruined. I kindly advised him to get one of his plastic hammers instead. He thought for a quick second, looked towards his room then back at me with a disgruntled expression and stated, "But my plastic hammer will get all muddy and ruined too. The paint will come off."

There was no arguing at that point.