It's been raining.
A lot.
Off and on.
And every time it stops, I have a couple kids who are ready at the door, pressing their faces against the glass, pulling on their coats and shoes.
They are itching to get outside.
So I let them.
They asked if they could walk through the mud.
Sure. Shoes will have to come off before you come back in the house, I tell them.
They run away, shouting with glee.
Excited at the thought of mud.
A few minutes later I hear screams followed by shrill bouts of laughter.
Huh?
I go to the door where daughter tells me that son stepped into a sinking mud puddle.
Double huh?
I go out and to the side of the yard and find son.
Sure enough.
Stuck in a sinking mud puddle.
Ah, rainy days.
And mud.
Ah, childhood.
