Water Fight

     After six days of practically no sun, a full day of sunshine splashed in glorious rays. Walks outside, picnic lunches, and playdates were welcomed excursions. It felt good to sweat in the sun. Even cleaning the car seemed appealing.
     With the car doors open and nozzle in hand, we vacuumed, wiped, and threw away trash. Then came the fun part.
     “Sweet Pea!” I called into the house, “would you like to help wash the car?”
     Without hesitation, Sweet Pea raced to fill the squirt bottles. I ran for the bucket and sponges. A mischievous smile and sparkle lit Sweet Pea’s eyes. I don’t know about your family, but in ours, “washing the car” is synonymous for…water battle!
     As I scrubbed soap suds onto the car, Sweet Pea volunteered to help.
     “Here, Mommy,” she said with an angelic look, “let me help you rinse off the bubbles.” In one fell swoop, she dumped an entire bottle of cold water over my head. I screeched.
     “Did that help?” she asked, innocently.
     “Oh yes!” I smiled, “thanks for cooling me off.” Then, I squeezed my saturated sponge onto her hair. Sweet Pea squealed. The war was on! Let us just say, the battle was long, drawn out, and fierce. But it was also fun. Truces were declared and truces were broken. All for the love of water and war. By the battles end, we were soaked to the skin, panting, and filled with laughter.
     “Who won?” asked my little girl, a broad grin stretching over her face. She examined me.
     “I won,” she announced, “My back is still dry.” I had to agree. Not one dry spot remained on me. But the war wasn’t over.
     The next day, as Sweet Pea took her evening shower, I filled a pitcher with cold water.
     “What are you doing?” asked Sweet Pea from behind the shower curtain. Water pelted the shower lining.
     “Nothing,” I answered, stepping onto the toilet lid. I stretched one arm over the curtain rod and dumped. An ear-splitting shriek permeated the air. But Sweet Pea would not be undone. As I hopped off the commode to flee, Sweet Pea whipped open the curtain. In her hand was a spray bottle. Squirt! Squirt! Streams of water pelted my head and back as I fled. Squirt! Squirt!
   Spritzes followed me to the doorway until I slammed it shut. Sweet Pea laughed.
     “Did I get you?” she called. I smiled.
     “Yes,” I replied, cracking open the door, “you did!”  Squirt! The last spray hit me square in the face. Sweet Pea stuck her head around the curtain and beamed.
     “I love you, Mommy!” she yelled above the pelting shower.
     “And I love you,” I called…This time from behind the safety of the closed door.
     As parents, we often engage in the mundane. Whether washing clothes, cleaning the kitchen, or picking up after our kids, parenting is often unglamorous or adventurous. But with a joyful heart as good medicine and with Christ’s help, we can transform the everyday to precious memories. The question remains, are we fully engaging in the present with our children? Or are we constantly looking ahead to the next task or need? Dear friends and fellow parents, I encourage you to take time to play and be present. Engage in each moment and treasure the time we have with our children. Be spontaneous and have fun.