How many of us could simply walk by this puddle without noticing its full potential? Oh you may notice it enough to avoid it, sure. Don’t want to get your feet wet and all. Could you walk through it? Gently wade into it to watch the ripples wash outward, being careful that it doesn’t crest the rubber sole of your shoe to soak your socks. Not me. Not my kids.
There’s no grace here. There’s no tiptoeing gently. This puddle needs to be disturbed and we’ll do it the best way we know how:
We will splash this puddle right back to where it came from. It’ll be like the front row seats at an orca show at Sea World. This puddle (and all puddles) was meant for jumping in as sure as snow is for snowmen. Bang could be walking hand in with me as innocent as you please. The moment he spots a puddle he starts tugging and pulling and if I don’t let go, he goes boneless. He’ll stay out of the puddle if I tell him “no water”. However, he must throw at least 1 rock into. If he misses, he’ll have to try again. Crash is the same. He gravitates to puddles like the Death Star tractor beam! And today was no different. I took him to school this rainy, Tuesday morning. On the way into the building he stomped in a puddle. It wouldn’t have been so bad if his pants were tucked into his boots. But no, they were hanging out and got soaked. Of course, I fussed at him because now he’s in wet pants until they dry. At recess, the puddle tractor beam was in effect again. He must have found a puddle to stomp/jump/play in and was apparently told to stay out of it. He did. Until lunch time. Back outside after lunch that puddle called to him yet again! He must have jumped in it this time because he got some other kids wet. He was called to the office for a talkin’ to. Crash’s teacher made him tell me about it after school and I made him tell mom when we got home. He lost a few privileges this evening. Not because he was jumping in puddles. Puddle jumping is awesome fun. But because he was told not to do something and he did it anyway and he got others wet in the process. I know I’ll re-post this story in 4 years when Bang does the exact same thing.
Who for some reason, and we have yet to figure out where or why, calls the buttons and drawstrings on pants “Big Butts”. If the drawstring on his pants is on the outside he’ll tell us “my big butt’s hangin’ out”. Unless he’s naked. If he’s naked and you ask him where his big butt is he’ll put his hands on the floor and stick his butt in the air as high as his little legs will let him. Think of that the next time you get dressed…