Puddle Jumper

I took these shots a few months ago after a nice long rainstorm. That puddle in front of our house was just calling Corgan's name. He was SOAKED.

It's funny how watching your kids triggers memories from your youth. When I was about nine years old, I was friends with Kathy Duncan. Kathy and I were inseperable. We used to walk around the mall and pretend we were big stuff, wearing our faded stone washed ankle zipper pants tucked into our Payless Shoestore Boots. We'd swing our side ponytail around as we shopped the clearance rack at Claire's. We had so much fun together.

Anyway, one time when I spent the night at her house, a fire hydrant broke down her street, spewing forth a massive amount of water into the street. All the kids in the neighborhood played and played in our own little personal, city funded water park. Jumping, splashing, trying to make rafts to float down the street. It was a ball. Sigh. Memories.

I actually have a ton of Kathy Duncan memories. Memories that I don't think I should post on my blog. I don't think my mother is ready for those yet. Not unless she starts taking some nerve pills....