This evening I asked the kids to run down the driveway to get the trash cans and bring them back to the house. Before they got outside, it started to pour. One look out the window and the kids begged to be able to go anyways. Since there was no thunder, I sent them out.
After dragging the cans back to the house, the kids asked to stay outside to play, so I stood in the garage and watched them run and dance through the rain. They were drenched!
It reminded me of me and my sister as children. Our old farmhouse always developed a horrendously large puddle off the back patio, which no doubt contributed to the puddles in the creepy basement, but to us it was our own private pond. We’d run and splash and make ourselves a terrible mess.
We’d come inside covered in mud and grass and we’d wipe ourselves down in the laundry room before we were allowed to venture upstairs.
This evening I had the kids do the same.