Thursday, October 10, 2013
Which is better to jump in: a leaf pile or a puddle?
Even though I literally just proclaimed my love for leaf piles two days ago, puddles trump leaves.
Perhaps if I’d grown up in the iconically (screw you and your wiggly red line, WordPress, that is a word, I checked) autumnal New England, I’d pick leaves. I mean, who doesn’t think of New England when they think of fall leaves?
But, I grew up in Oregon. Oregon is soggy. You either learn to live with the rain or you go freaking nuts. Jury’s out whether I’m nuts or not, but I do love rain. Puddles are a nice fringe benefit of rainy days, provided it’s not important you keep your feet dry. Even though I once ruined a sweet pair of red flats because of puddles, I hold no grudge.
Anyway, jumping into a puddle is like being a child again. You have nowhere to be and nothing on your agenda but fun, so heck yes I’ll jump in this puddle and get soaked up to my knees. It makes a cool noise, and if you time it right, you can soak someone else too.
When Colt and I stayed in Oregon last spring, I taught him to jump in puddles. We went to the park one day and it started pouring. I did not feel like being stuck in a house with a fussy toddler, so I said, Eff it, and showed him the joy of jumping in puddles. He was so stoked. Now whenever he sees a puddle he tries to smash it, so in a way our fun day kind of backfired on me. But whatevs, he’s pretty cute.