OK, I should probably give more context to this video that I posted not long ago...
We often need to, uh, sift through the sand in that area of our playground in order to rid it of cat poop (although when we successfully keep the cover on the sandbox as we have lately, we don't need to do that in the box, just in one corner of the actual fenced in playground).
Anyway, my best interpretation of what Anya is doing in this video is that she thinks what you're supposed to do at the sandbox is to take bits of sand with a shovel and throw them out over the fence and onto the hillside. Of course it is cute that the little shovelfuls that she collects fall to the ground way before she makes it to the fence, but she still goes through the motion, because of course that is what the big people do.
I'm sure every family has stories of this sort. In my toddlerhood, I was known to stand in front of the wall below a picture window (I was too short to see out) for a few seconds at a time each morning, and then walk away -- later interpreted as my version of looking at the outside thermometer, like my parents would do. Also I went through a period of whacking a yardstick at the walls and corners of rooms, which was after a bout of flies that had my parents vacuuming them up with the long arm of a vacuum up in the ceiling-corners.
I guess now it is Anya's turn...
We often need to, uh, sift through the sand in that area of our playground in order to rid it of cat poop (although when we successfully keep the cover on the sandbox as we have lately, we don't need to do that in the box, just in one corner of the actual fenced in playground).
Anyway, my best interpretation of what Anya is doing in this video is that she thinks what you're supposed to do at the sandbox is to take bits of sand with a shovel and throw them out over the fence and onto the hillside. Of course it is cute that the little shovelfuls that she collects fall to the ground way before she makes it to the fence, but she still goes through the motion, because of course that is what the big people do.
I'm sure every family has stories of this sort. In my toddlerhood, I was known to stand in front of the wall below a picture window (I was too short to see out) for a few seconds at a time each morning, and then walk away -- later interpreted as my version of looking at the outside thermometer, like my parents would do. Also I went through a period of whacking a yardstick at the walls and corners of rooms, which was after a bout of flies that had my parents vacuuming them up with the long arm of a vacuum up in the ceiling-corners.
I guess now it is Anya's turn...
