I don't know how it started, but one day my boys were suddenly enthralled with their newest hobby: snail racing.
At one point Rock came in short of breath from all the excitement telling me how exhilarating the current race was.
I tried not to smirk, snail racing and exhilarating in the same sentence seems wrong, but then he is a boy and I have never professed to understand boys.
So here is the race course, built and designed by Rock. I protested the use of my new storage container, but was thrilled to sacrifice after I saw how much they loved the race.
Three snails raced at the same time. There were heats and cheering and hours of entertainment a mother's dream come true. At this point something that will keep all four boys happy and working together is heavenly.
On top of all that I had snail hunters for a few weeks, something my hostas and tender plants appreciated.
This was the holding area. Each snail would be forced to endure a "board of judgement", a timed exercise from point a to point b. If the snail finished in time it would be allowed to compete. If not it would be executed by dropping a wooden board crushing it or it would be exploded by the whack of the lacrosse stick. That I know this much about snail execution should be disturbing to me, but I'm just thankful they were not in the garden any more so I'm trying to think happy thoughts and not that this might be the first stage of raising serial killers.
I don't remember who won and why the final heat was so exciting. I will have to admit that I finally tuned out the last few announcements as they came rolling in, but I think a couple of my boys might have a future at ESPN.
I might encourage snail races a little sooner in the year next summer. My tender plants will thank me.