Soaked

After an indoor, cooped-up afternoon, Channing convinced me a walk around the neighborhood before dinner was in fact necessary. Very necessary. 

We hit the sidewalk at the base of the drive, sweat barely hiding under the surface of my skin. My cheeks, instantly pink. I could tell from the wiggle of Maxwell's feet, just peeking out from under the stroller canopy, he was feeling it too.  

We let Channing lead the way on his scooter. A boy on a mission, he sped to the end of the block, anxious to see if any of the heavy machinery one block over was still in action. Two blocks later, shoulders slumped, his disappointed face turned up at me. 'All the workers have gone home, Mom.'  

His pace slowed some for a block or two until I pointed out sprinklers in the distance. Not only were they watering the lawn, they were watering a good stretch of sidewalk too. That sad little face looked expectant as Channing asked, 'Can I ride through it??'  

Disappointment turned to jubilation when I laughingly replied, 'yes.'  There was no way I could deny him that pleasure. His giggles filled the air as he scooted back and forth, riding through the cool wet streams again and again.  

We returned home soaked, but happy.