For those of us who never got too old to play in the sandbox...

Every so often, in the past month or so, I have passed by a large parking lot full of giant dirt piles. Naturally, being one of those people who never really left childhood, I would turn to whoever I was with and explain my sudden urge to play king of the mountain. This was usually followed by a short silence and a polite change of subject. Fortunately I do have some friends, however few, who understand me and my desire to play in big piles of dirt. And these were really big piles of dirt…

It all began last Tuesday night when Briaunna, JoAnn, and Shilo came to my apartment. Bri casually suggested we go check out the dirt piles. Jo and I readily agreed. Shilo was a little hesitant. After some exploration we found the perfect peak for a quick round of king of the mountain, and Briaunna, JoAnn, and I began to play. Shilo had to go to Peru— literally. It was epic. We pushed, pulled, rammed, screamed, and tumbled. It was, hands down, the best game of king of the mountain I have ever played.

The first interruption came from a boy who we’ll call George.

George came up to ask us what we were doing. Then he just stood there watching us play. Which was awkward. After some coaxing he joined in. Which was still awkward, but less so. The second interruption came from the university police. The conversation went something like this…

Officer: What are you kids doing up there?
Bri: We’re just playing. Are we not supposed to be up here?
Officer: Well, it’s funny. We just got a call from someone who was worried someone would get hurt.
Bri: Oh, we’re fine. But we can leave if it’s a problem.
Officer: Well, I guess I don’t see anything wrong with it. I just don’t understand why you’re doing it.
Bri: Well sir, it’s a giant pile of dirt.

Resume game.

In the end George still thought we were crazy…

And we were a little worse for the wear...

But it was worth it.