I cringe at the thought of being sprayed by ice water, but for some reason, my kids love it. Apparently other people’s kids love it, too, because we have a dozen splash pads scattered throughout town, usually crowded with soaked, screaming children, dashing through jets of frigid water. As far as I can tell, they’re screaming with joy. (I know. It’s weird. It’s fun to watch, as long as I don’t get splashed.)
To celebrate the first day of summer vacation, my kids screamed at a splash pad and then their lips turned blue while they waded in the murky, glacial waters of the nearby creek. Convincing them to eventually end this activity took a fair amount of coaxing. If not for the fact that I’m 100% sure I gave birth to them, I might wonder how they could possibly be related to me.
To top off the day, they slurped up their first ever root beer float (I had one, too. I like cold liquids, as long as my body isn’t being sprayed by or immersed in them. Also, I didn’t want the kids to think I don’t know how to have fun).
Let the adventures begin!