He counted three and we both dropped them then rushed to the other side to watch them float out.
“There’s my stick, mama.” He ran to drop his next stick.
When they were gone, acorns plinked and rocks splashed. Our bag of treasures empty, I said, “Time to go.”
“Okay, mama.” Yawning, he rubbed his eyes and held his arms up to me. “Carry me, mama.”
“Okay,” I smiled, hefting his little body into my arms.