Hmm, today’s prompt is a bit of a toughy. I grew up in an apartment in Chicago, near Logan Square. There was a backyard behind it, not the same size as the one currently behind our house, but it was big enough that we could have one of those pools you fill up with water from the hose, and near the door, a small grill. I played outside a lot as a little girl, I didn’t have any friends, but that didn’t matter. I made my own fun out there in the backyard. My mom hated me playing outside in the rain though, but I loved it. I’d sneak out there and run around, getting absolutely soaked to the skin, not to mention covered in mud. I never made mud pies, I just ran around stomping in puddles. Didn’t all kids do that? As I got older, I stopped all of that, finding the idea of running around in the rain, stomping in puddles, to be a very childish thing indeed, and I often wonder if maybe I was wrong about that.
I think the next time it rains, I’m going to find me a big old puddle and just splash around in it, simply because I can.