Jump! Jump!

(foto fr google) wish our puddles were this easy...

Let me tell you about the rainy months when I was in elementary. We lived just a couple of blocks from the school so there was no need to ride a tricycle or for my father to drive us to school via our rickety owner-type jeep (which, by the way, was slower than a tricycle on the highway).

So we walked to and from school everyday. Now, the road we always took was uncemented and when the rains came, it was brown with mud and puddles. And when I say puddles, I mean riversized puddles which spanned the whole width of the road. How you got to the other side depended on your breakfast and how nimble you were. A group usually huddled at one end of the puddle watching a brave soul cross it, taking mental notes on where and where not to step in order to get to the other side as dry as possible.

There would be little stones whose tops showed above the puddle when the water was still. We would hop on each small stone on one foot, hoping the next one would be near enough to reach in the next jump. Often, the stones you picked rolled over when you step on them and your foot would end smack right into the mud – but you wouldn’t give up your other foot so you’d be standing on one leg in the middle of the puddle thinking of the next step….then you see a tricycle coming….a fast one at that.

we'd end up in school eventually with brown socks and smelly feet. But that meant going home wouldn’t be as difficult.