ode to play-dough

Who knew one big green glob of goo
could give so much joy to me and you?
Who knew that from a friend's bread-maker to our play-table
this happy goo would become the glue
which held together many mornings of me and you?
Who knew that you would master the goo,
and the opening of the goo's container too,
to find a sensory meditation,
not unlike a very gentle sedation,
which would give me the gap, with a million things to do,
to ignore it all and photograph you
as you endlessly play with your beloved goo.

I cannot recommend homemade play-dough strongly enough. In consistency, pliability, usability and all the other -ilities (distractability?) which count it's far superior to the shop-bought stuff.
Find a good recipe here and if you have a bread-maker, or know someone that does, you can whip up a batch in no time. (Also, it's super fun to sink your face into a fresh warm soft batch of dough - try it, you know you want to.)
The high salt content makes it totally unpalatable so even small kiddies can use it (I can't stand the thought of Sunday eating the commercial stuff), plus it's all natural ingredients so even if they do have a little taste, no worries.
There's some fun ideas online for scented and spiced play-dough too, as well as suggestions for 'Doughs of the Month'.
But honestly, this humble hunk of green dough has served us very, very well just as it is.

One more note on this (I could actually carry on all day). Friday is as into play-dough as Sunday, although in the past she's gotten frustrated at not being able to make a cow, or a picnic basket (yes, this really happened), or a fire engine. We had a breakthrough on that though after watching a Sunday evening National Geographic programme on 'Freaks of the Sea' - since then she's happily been making the most imaginative and bizarre 'freaks', with no concerns at the limitations of form or function. Yay imagination!