Mud Pies

I have remembered mud pies a couple of times recently and it seems criminal that I have forgotten mud pies for so long, that I haven't made a mud pie in so many years. What was it about digging a hole in the ground, pouring a lot of water into it, and smooshing it all up? What was that all about? I say that, but I can feel ir, I can see and smell and feel the delight. If I just think about it, all of it comes back, as if I was born to make mud pies and I am finally looping around to that realisation. My true calling is to be some dirty garden chef, making an incredible worm meal, or like, just messing up their home space.

Me and some other kids probably thinking about how good we are at mud pies.

I dunno man, I just feel like I miss making them a lot. Why do I have this urge to pretend to eat wet dirt as a fully grown human? I remembered mud pies and immediately wondered why that wasn't a thing that I was still doing, with a couple of friends huddled around, maybe throwing a little bit of grass in to add 'flavour', maybe fetching me a good stick, but ultimately miming the feverish chomping and slurping of the best meal in the world when I'm done.

Me, thinking about all the mud I can scoop from my surroundings. Or more realistically, I'm probably thinking about my Game Boy.

But then how could I even do that? Even if I had managed to gather a few fully grown adult humans who wanted to enthusiastically pretend to eat mud with me, how would we be able to actually sit down on the ground and prepare our fake meal without feeling like the weirdest and silliest people on earth? Please, all I want to do is run away from society forever and commit myself to the mud pie endeavour that I was so clearly destined to carry out. Don't inform the authorities.