My father built me a sandbox when I was about three years old. It was deep and wide enough that I could sit right in it and still have room for the Tonka dump truck and a small collection of buckets and little metal cars.

I would dig and build for hours, constructing roads along the mountains and in the valleys of the lands my imagination and willingness to get dirty produced.

When Katy developed her inevitable affection for sand, digging and piling, I decided to get her a sandbox. I had wanted her to have one that was at least big enough to get in. However, I had only a small trunk to haul it and the only thing I could fit was one of those little turtle boxes that you see at Target or Toys R Us. The downside of being the only parent and a financially strapped one at that – no SUV.

I gave the turtle box away last summer before we moved. Katy had out-grown it physically and I thought we could just get her a new one once we were in our new home.

Last summer though we contented ourselves with the sand at the park.

This summer with renovations progressing at a fairly impressive rate (my opinion only – my husband is less pleased), the idea of a sandbox in the back yard came up again. I suggested buying one. With the truck, I reasoned, it would be easier to get one that was much bigger than the old turtle.

Rob was having none of that. He would build a sandbox.

Great, I thought. BabyDaughter would have a sandbox like the one I remembered and loved so much. Who doesn’t want her child to have the same wonderful memories of childhood?

The box is pink. Not as large as mine was but my dad was building a sandbox with three children (eventually four) in mind and Rob had just BabyDaughter in mind. With typical Virgo forethought and precision, he first selected and prepared the area where the box would rest. This meant clearing out hedges, transplanting bushes and when this was done it lead to the expansion of the garden.

The box was built quickly but in order to satisfy Rob’s need for long life, it required several coats of primer and then paint. He also wanted the lid the be tight and secure which meant hinges and latches. And of course, everything had to be level.

I think he began work on the sandbox at the beginning of June and finished just after we returned from holiday after July 4th. MidKid helped, as she has been doing with much of the yard reworking and siding project.

Towards the end of last week, I was given the task of final leveling and with MidKid’s help placed the box on its foundations.

We’d underestimated the amount of sand needed, but BabyDaughter was thrilled. We’d purchased a few accessories when we had the chance to visit Target in the U.S. (they simply have nothing up here that even compares with this type of retail) and with bucket, dump truck and bulldozer, she and MidKid christened the sandbox.

MidKid and BabyDaughter in the pink sandbox their Daddy built.

I wanted to sit and play myself, but I need to cut my nails first. I am so not okay with sand under the nails anymore.