Today, for some unknown reason, I realised that it’s been almost 12 years since I last willingly took part in a good old puddle jumping. And no, I’m not a 16 year old who thought hey, something I did at age 4 was awesome.
In fact it’s much better. The last time I went puddle jumping was at the age of 22. I’m almost 34 now and with this great storm, and me reflecting upon many things this evening I thought it’s time to reset that counter.
As a matter of fact, the last time I willingly jumped in to a puddle after a big ass rainfall was June 24, 2000. My 22nd birthday. There are people who can verify the event and can also verify the extreme joy that event brought to my face.
To many puddle jumping is a pretty immature event. You know that point in your life where everybody walks away thinking you’re just a stupid jackass. But guess what? I’m not the one who keeps whining about “I miss the good old days.” That’s right, because I don’t give a fuck if you think I’m an immature little boy jumping in puddles because it’s rainy outside. And I don’t like to whine about “the good old days” when I can make the current days just as awesome.
I reset the counter on my way home. I jumped in not one, not two, but five puddles. A couple big ones. A couple one footed, and a couple two footed. I prefer the two foot splash (see above). It’s by far the most bang for your wet feet. My pants are wet. My socks are wet. My shoes will be wet for days. And I don’t give a fuck. The people that were walking around me were scared. They diverted. Many didn’t even realise I was jumping in puddles because people don’t look past themselves. I should’ve splashed them.
People try and be all up and serious about everything. You know what you should do? Go jump in a big ass puddle. It’s so unbelievably awesome. It’ll open your eyes and remind you that we’re all in it for some fun.