When my daughter was very young, I didn't let her in the sandbox at our closest local playground. Sometimes she would come home from a grandparent-initiated visit to said playground with telltale grains in her shoes and I'd try to grin and bear it. (My own mother would get an earful!) But my gut feeling was the thing was a cesspool of germs, roundworm eggs, pesticide and car-exhaust residue, lead dust, general city filth, old Band-Aids, rat shit, and worse. Why oh why would I willingly allow my kid to dig into that, then stick her filthy little adorable fingers in her mouth!? I get that sand play can help intellectual development, but, um, I'm pretty good about making up for what she might lose out on in the sand. I remember an article in The New Yorker that came out right when I was in the not-allowed-in-the-box phase that helped put me off. I cringe when I see very young children in the sandbox, or kids romping around in there with their shoes off - who knows what sharp matter is buried in there?
As my daughter has gotten older, it has been harder to keep her out of the sandpit. Especially if we're on a playdate and her friends are hopping in. The powers that be recently put new sand in my local box and so that made me feel better for about 24 full hours. In general, I still avoid it like the plague (maybe there's plague in there?) without really resisting it out loud for fear she will (oppositionally) fall madly in love with it. But from time to time she goes in. So when someone asked me recently if sandboxes are safe, I relished the opportunity to research my gut feeling.
Turns out I'm in good company when it comes to telling parents to keep the kids out of the box. ...
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