It’s raining heavily as I write this, which means The Geeklet six are inside staring out at the mud, wishing I would let them play in it. Noooo, not the mud, I whine internally.
Do you know, gentle reader, how much mess six enthusiastically muddy kids can make? Six pairs of muddy hands, six pairs of muddy feet, six sets of muddy clothes . . . I’d have to strip them down to their skivvies and hose them off before letting them set one toe back inside or this house would end up looking like it belonged in a traditional mud hut village in Nigeria.
Not that I have anything against mud, per se; I don’t even have anything against mud + kids. It’s the mud + kids = huge freaking mess that Yours Truly would have to clean up that I’m not feeling wonderful about.
If we actually had what they call a “mud room” . . . but we don’t. If we had a pool I could make them jump in before house re-entry . . . but we don’t. If we had a scientifically developed spray-on no-stick coating for kids . . . but we don’t. (Why not? This is the year 2012, isn’t it? I thought we were supposed to be technologically advanced by now.)
Like I mentioned, we do have a hose. But letting kids play in the mud, then handing them the hose and telling them to wash off, would actually net you – that’s right – more mud.
Nope, I’d have to do it myself. Hose them off, that is. Which I’ve tried before. I’m surprised the neighbors didn’t call the cops, The Geeklets screamed so loud. I’m still confused about the math here:
hose + kids = fun fun fun
(hose + mom) x kids = simple torture
What evil algebra is this?
So, no. You can’t go outside right now, Geeklets. Let’s go find some virtual mud online, instead.