In western Washington we do desperate things.
Like go to a park in between downpours.
Only we don’t go so much because we’re crazy…ahem…but because going crazy is what we’re trying to prevent.
I don’t know if it’s working.
Deep down we know there’s nothing attractive about a wet play area. Especially for the first guy down the slide. But the puddles on the path back to the van…heh. Why…
why these are the reason we came.
Nevermind that in four minutes two kids and a cousin won’t have a dry stitch between them. Or that the water emptied from six boots could fill a small aquarium.
And completely nevermind that the guy in the orange coat will peel down to just his undies and his orange coat and hobble back to the van. Or that the whole lot of them will ride home scarcely dressed.
Because without warning…it was a puddle party.
And, well, it just might have been the best tangent we took all day.