Yum, dirt

Nothing better than a fistful of dirt

According to the stories that my parents tell, when I was a child, it was quite common for me to go outside and feast on dirt. I ate so much dirt that it would pass straight through and when my parents changed my dirty diapers, they were literally filled with dirt. Perhaps this is a genetic proclivity. While we were out cutting our Christmas tree, I set Sam on the ground, and before I could stop him, he was grabbing fistfuls of dirt and shoving them in his mouth. I think we were able to stop him before his next diaper will be filled with nothing but dirt, though. Hmm, I wonder how this Texas soil compares with that tasty eastern Idaho volcanic loam?