Small Boy… Large Puddle


This happened a good few years ago… more than I care to remember really. Suffice it to say, my oldest son was about two years old.

We are fortunate to live near a large country park which is a favoured spot for dog walkers and has been the scene of quite a few adventures for me…

The park has undergone a few alterations, including the installation of a BMX stunt track; but on the whole it remains a palatable chunk of green space in my otherwise urban surroundings.


There are treasures to be found… cobnuts and blackberries, wild raspberries, hawthorn, hops and fungi. One year, we had an invasion of giant puffball mushrooms, like perfectly round alien eggs laid at regular intervals amongst the dewy hillocks and tufted grass. Apparently, you can slice them and fry them in butter like steaks… wouldn’t know, never tried… don’t like mushrooms…

There is a wonderful woodland walk where you can hear and sometimes see jays, and at the top of the hill, there are flat, broad fields with great swathes of unmown grass, left specifically for the insect life.


Mini beasts… beetles and butterflies gather, and because of the heavy clay soil, water gathers, creating miniature lakes. It’s quite boggy land anyway, so the standing water doesn’t often drain away or dry up, resulting in large puddles.


The dogs love this walk… Mum had her two dogs, Rosie and Rebel, while I had my little dog and eldest child safely strapped into his pushchair. He was wearing his brand new Wellington boots. His shiny red Wellington boots of which he was very proud… what kid doesn’t love Wellington boots…

My mother thought she would up the fun gear a little and said:

Oh, let him walk a bit! He can try his new boots out!”

Child duly released from pushchair, my mother exclaimed:

Ooh LOOK! Go and run in that big puddle!” which lay, balefully gleaming, like a giant’s eye…


My son took a moment to smile at me in childish excitement then ran …. full tilt … into the puddle.

The next sequence of actions remain, even to this day, indelibly etched in slow motion in my memory … I reached out my arms and roared;


as my son fell flat on his face. He lifted his head and opened his mouth, ready to start bellowing in outrage …

A tiny tidal wave of muddy puddle water rose up and slapped him in the mouth… my mother rushed forwards and attempted to haul my son out of the puddle, helped/hindered by the three dogs dancing excitedly around the edges of the liitle lake…

Yes! Small human has right idea! Let’s swim and get muddy!”

I laughed.

My son’s clothes were drenched. I had to take my jumper off and hold it out for my mother to insert my screaming child into…

Here we are! A baby in a bag!”

she said, attempting to distract my son …

Well. That finished me off. We walked home, me, snorting and staggering, choking and weeping with laughter, my son retreating into sleep, a tide mark of mud staining his cheeks as a reminder of the afternoon’s adventure…


21 thoughts on “Small Boy… Large Puddle

  1. I used to LOVE my Wellies! We usd to purchase them in Toronto when visiting my mum’s family in August – the hottest, most humid month known to man. Undeterred, I would put on my new boops (yes, you read that correctly – boops – a three-year-old’s pronounciations are celebrated) and run around Flax Garden Way like a demon possessed in search of muddy puddles…
    Again, my dear friend, you have vividly portrayed a cherished memory which in turn sparks grateful remembrance. 💞

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I am pleased you enjoyed it! I love your three-year-old boops as well, I can match that with”trowies”-otherwise known as trousers…lol!
      Thank you for your lovely comment-I’ve had some great ones on this post and I really appreciate them 🙂 and enjoy the friendship of sharing these memories 🙂 🙂 xx


  2. A depiction of the modern family! Thanks for the laugh. It reminds me of a school holiday to Belgium I went on, aged about 10. Our class of about 30 kids were on a walk far from anywhere and had to cross a tiny, tiny stream via an equally tiny log. The teachers warned us repeatedly to be careful, not to rush, no mucking about and so on, but progress was slow and one girl got bored and just raced across. And of course she fell in and got wetter than you would have thought possible in so little water. Her clothes were going to have to come off, and one of the teachers, to my amazement, asked the most stupid question ever asked of a bunch of kids on an outing “do any of you have a spare dress in your satchel?” I couldn’t believe it. Of course not!! Except, amazingly, one girl actually did! I still wonder why, though!

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Greta story! Loved it, very funny 🙂 🙂
      I can only assume that the girl with the spare dress was a Girl Guide…aren’t they always supposed to be prepared..? Or is that Scouts?
      LOL…you have to admire the teacher for their unreasoning faith that the possibilty of a spare dress was real..!! And why is it really funny when other people fall over..not so much yourself..
      Great comment and story, thank you very much :)xx

      Liked by 1 person

  3. This was so fun!!! And it brought back memories of when my three boys were little. Anytime it rained, boots or not boots, they were drawn into mud puddles on the farm yard like being sucked into a giant whirlpool. If they did not fall into them they jumped up and down till they were muddy and soaked. I remember my sister being amazed that kids actually did that in real life.
    I can see where he would be impressed with his wellies. I am equally impressed (at my age) with my chicken wellies!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I saw your chicken wellies! I LOVE them!
      I think it’s a part of growing up as well…the security of knowing that you can get so thoroughly dirty and Mum will take care of it…lol! I love your memory too, kids and mud 🙂 🙂
      Great comment, thank you :)x

      Liked by 1 person

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