Bubbling Streams of Fun

Irony is a customary occurance in life. 

Returning from our recent trip we brought home not only warm memories and goofy smiles, but an unfortunate souvenier: the common cold.

You know that slowly suffocating, stuffy head feeling. The sounds of life get muffled by your clogged sinuses. Babies have no choice but to cry and require extra hugs, not a bad remedy for an adult I might add.

Being blessed with a willing and able caretaker makes the unpleasant experience more bearable, thanks to Mr. Honeybelles and his dutiful willingness to purchase and heat up chicken noodle soup. The half pint consumed her weight in popcicles, or as we refer to them pops always spoken with an emphatic tone.

I attempted to break the monotonous cabin fever state of mind with some much needed fresh air. A simple garden hose and tiny turtle shaped sprinkler were all the materials needed to please my young patient for a short while. I popped a few cold meds, slathered the half pint with baby sunscreen and we headed outdoors...

Remember how marvelous a sprinkler could be to a young unspoiled mind?  Bubbling streams of fun that cannot be replicated by a computer screen or video game.  She danced and frolicked in the grass and I gathered more toys for playing.

A sad and lonely water table caught my eye. Painted with a week's worth of debris and rainwater, a thorough rinsing was in store. As I plucked a half sunken sailboat out of the water, dozens of inky particles scrambled in all directions. Upon closer observation, the dingy water revealed itself to be the newfound home of a large tadpole family, just hatched.

The midday sun was intense and I didn't have the stomach to watch dozens of tiny specks writhing on the concrete, so I left the frog farm alone to let nature take its course.

Seven days come and go, and I start a hefty dose of antibiotics. Returning home one day, I remember the little biology experiment on our patio. I peek over the edge of the faded blue plastic and much to my surprise, the inky dots have tripled in size.

Soon we will have an amphibious mob, hopefully gorging themselves on irritating mosquitoes and bothersome gnats. Until then, the half pint excitedly refers to our little blue pond as "froggies" and scampers outside to watch them perform in an aquatic circus, threatening their safety with curious fingers and I forget all about my symptoms for a time.

When was the last time you splashed in a sprinkler or watched a tadpole swim?