A mother had an 11 year old boy who was an explorer. On Saturday mornings he would get up early and head out to the woods to explore. His mother knew he would be knee deep in mud, and after clambering up the cliffs, his pants might be torn. He would come back dirty and scratched, but he would come back happy, full of stories of his discoveries.

And so, she got ready for him. Knowing he would make his grand entrance from the back porch, she spread out newspapers on the kitchen floor and the back porch. There was a big towel down by the kitchen sink. And an old chair to sit on, and it, too, had newspapers, because his pants would be muddy.

After these few precautions, she went about her own adventures. She planted a new gardenia plant, she raked out the area where the last storm had broken off branches from the trees overhead. Humming while she worked, she collected a good sized mound, and she knew her son would help her carry them out to the street on brush collection day. He helped easily.

He, in the meantime, had tracked down a can full of salamanders and had courageously captured a few crayfish, and had unsuccessfully chased a garter snake or two. Up on the cliffs, he had come across a birds nest on a thin ledge. He had looked in, but touched nothing and wished the little eggs good fortune. He made a mental note to come back and check on them next Saturday. He did snag his sweatshirt on a branch and it had torn a small hole. That made two of them, because chasing a snake he had tripped on a root and fallen, and torn a hole in the right knee of his jeans. He knew he could sew them, so he wasn't too worried.

Way off in the distance, he heard the bells strike noon at the church in the middle or the village, so he made one last foray for a salamander and knew he would be home by the 12:15 deadline he had agreed upon with his mom. He didn't want to be late for lunch with her. Turning his can over, he let the salamanders scamper back to their hiding places and he returned the crayfish to the creek and with a stick, wiped off some of the heavy mud from his shoes. He felt so good about his morning, he broke into a run, and tried to be silent on the path like he had read the Indian used to in the old days.

His mother heard him on the back porch steps, right on time, and she was ready for him. She put on her love glasses.

"Welcome home, honey," she said. "Looks like you had a great time. Did you leave any mud out there in the creek?"

"Yep," he answered, "and a few of the crayfish, too. It was a great morning."

"I'm so proud to have a kid who is an explorer like you. Here, sit down on the old mud-chair and take those shoes off. Here's a rag. I'll tear it in half and you clean one of those shoes and I'll clean the other. O.K.?"

"Sure Mom, and if you got the needle and thread handy, after lunch, I'll sew one of these holes and maybe you'll do the other?"

"That's a deal. Especially because I know you'll help me carry half the brush stuff out on brush collection day."

"You got it." "So, tell me your story, I want to hear every one of the harrowing adventures, from the first to the last, including all the snakes that got away, but let's make our lunch first. Oh, and I have to remind you, today is my favorite lunch pick. We did yours last Saturday, remember?"

"O.K., Mom, you know I'm learning to love piccalilli in tunafish on pocket bread."

"What a kid I got. Let's get over to the sink, and wash up a bit. I even remembered to get you a clean pair or pants. Mud pie was not on the menu, you know."

"I know, I know."

"And oh boy, I'm getting ready to hear those adventures."

"I won't miss a trick. You get from the first salamander right up to when I turned them all free, mom."

"And then, I'll tell you my explorations, too. After all, you come from a family full of adventure, too, you know."

"Yeah, mom, I know, I know. The apple don't fall far from the tree, right?"

"Right. Now, get the piccalilli out of the fridge and let the rumpus begin."

"Well, mom, there was this 6 foot salamander just begging to be caught, and I wrestled him to the ground, and got him into my tin can before he knew it."

"What a kid I got. I love you, son. Just the way you are. Who would want a kid who just stays home on a Saturday morning watching cartoons?"

"And what a mom. Who would want a mom who doesn't like a little mud every now and then? Pass the tuna, please." And they both put their love glasses down just long enough to eat their special Saturday lunch. And oh what tales they told.

- The End -