I have childhood memories of frosty spring mornings when we would find thin layers of ice-covered puddles on the drive-way. And I also remember the satisfying feeling of being the first one to crunch it down with your rubber boot. On the prairies it was more likely puddles of melted snow that would re-freeze overnight to create miniature skating rinks around the yard. Here, it's torrential February rains that are followed by a couple of frosty nights (that feel strangely like the return of winter).
Yesterday morning as we were trudging through the daily routine of packing our backpacks and gathering coats and mitts and lunch bags, I suggested that there might be some ice puddles outside that needed crunching. All three kids were out the door pretty quick after that. And they were rewarded with dozens of nice crunchy puddles.
Silas got in some bonus ice-crunching action after the older kids were dropped off at school.
And even though the puddles were turning less crunchy and more muddy with each passing minute, I decided that a little extra laundry wouldn't be the end of the world.
After all, we do live on a farm.
Mud puddles and dirty little boys are simply par for the course.
2 comments:
So cute.
And how those simple things bring so much joy. I totally remember being a kid and loving playing in ice puddles but some how after all these years I forget about that pure simple joy. Thanks for the reminder. Now to hunt for some ice puddles out here! :0)
we love ice puddles! There are plenty to be crunched when the boys go visit Paul at his workshop at camp. Those are adorable pics of your big 3 year old!
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