One of the playground highlights and something Art often asks for is a game we play on the bridge. Art says, "I'm going to go on your bridge, Papa!" and then of course I say, "No no no, I'm going to get you!" It's very exciting to run across a bridge when someone below is pretending to grab you and eat your fingers and toes. So exciting that other kids want to play, and at one point there was a gaggle of 6 or 7 kids screaming and prancing across the bridge as I reached for their tasty feet.
A fascinating thing about Tsundi is that he always has something in his hands. Always. Rocks, sticks, food, trash, shovels, balls. As they were riding their bikes back home he stopped to collect rocks on the ground. At one point he didn't have anything in his hands and I watched as he scoured the sidewalk hunched over looking for anything to grasp. It's odd. And endearing.
I was anxious to get home as it was already past Art's bedtime. As they were pushing their bikes up the hill Art stopped as he noticed an anthill (something he and Jessica often do). He showed Tsundi, and for the next 15 minutes they were looking at ant hills, moving methodically from one to the next, inspecting ant quantities and the shapes of the tiny mounds of dirt. Tsundi stood up and yelled something as he stomped on a hill. "No!" said Arthur. They worked it out.

Art's bike is too big, Tsundi's is too small.

Anthills.
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