One afternoon, Dylan, age 10, came running back from the creek with a pile of leeches. Normally unflappable, Klebold’s mother was disgusted by her son’s blood-sucking treasures; Dylan loved it, the fun of grossing out Mom.

— Exorcising the pain, US News, 5/2/99

One summer afternoon, when Dylan was about eight, we went on a picnic with Judy Brown and her two boys. The kids were catching crayfish in the creek, and Dylan lost his balance on the slippery rocks and fell into the shallow water with a splash. He emerged unhurt but furious: livid about the pratfall, and even angrier that everyone else had laughed. We tried to help him to see the humor in it—Byron would likely have hammed it up further by taking an elaborate bow—but Dylan went to the car and refused to speak to anyone until he felt able to face the world again. The reaction seemed outsized, but it only cemented what we already knew: Dylan felt embarrassment more acutely than other kids did. — Sue Klebold – A Mother’s Reckoning

We also discovered the joys of chasing crawdads at the creek near my house. Dylan would come over, and we’d grab a couple of jars and head down to the creek. When we’d caught a few crawdads, we’d put them in our terrarium and keep them for a few weeks. Sometimes our moms would take us to the park together; the adults would sit on benches and talk while Dylan and I chased frogs.
— Brooks Brown – No Easy Answers

Judy [Brown] first saw him blow when he was eight or nine. They had driven down to a creek bed for a typical adventure. Sue Klebold had come along-horrified by all the mud, but bearing it to bond with her boy. Officially, it was a crawdad hunt, but they were always on the lookout for frogs or tadpoles or anything that might slither by. Sue fretted about bacteria, hectoring the boys to behave and keep clean.