The Mud Puddles

Quality time with a grandkid.

“Bailey,” Grandpa Seth said, “How’s about you and me go for a walk.”

“Grandpa, really?” the five-year-old said. “It just rained.”

“Yes, but that means mud puddles, Bailey.”

“Moooom! Grandpa and I are going for a walk!” Bailey shouted to her mother.

“Okay, but don’t jump in the puddles and come in if starts to lightning.”

“I’ll make sure Grandpa doesn’t get hit by lightning,” said Bailey as she giggled at her grandfather.

When the two got outside, Grandpa Seth said, “Bailey, I see three mud puddles up ahead. You can jump in them on one condition.”

“What is it?”

“You have to hold my hand and we jump in all three of them together.”

Bailey squinted up at her grandfather, trying to process his unusual request.

“But you won’t tell Mom, will you?”

“Cross my heart! She’ll never know if we take off our shoes and socks at the door when we get back.”

“Grab my hand, Grandpa, and run with me to the first one!”