 For some reason, my children --
indeed every child I know -- think that the occurrence of a
sprinkler set in the "on" position is a social event. As soon as
they hear that sound -- a cross between a soda fountain and a
machine gun -- they come out of the woodwork and merrily prance
around, trampling the grass and flowers I meant to water. Some of
them -- just to make their parents believe that they didn't really
want to get wet, I guess -- will even cry when they first get hit
with water, as if it's a big surprise or something. But soon the
criers join the fray and are giggling and shrieking with glee just
like the rest of the kids.
I believe that if I were of a mind to
turn on a sprinkler in the middle of the winter, a half dozen or so
children in their mittens, hats and boots would arrive to celebrate
the event by getting hypothermia. I want to assure my husband,
though, that I have no intention of turning on the sprinkler in the
winter, because he has warned me many times that if I do, something
catastrophic will happen, like the house blowing up or some such
nonsense. Whatever. Besides, I don't want to be responsible for all
those 4-foot human popsicles trying to shuffle home to thaw out.
On top of turning out for the sprinkler event, the children will
sometimes forget to bring their brains along. I have one child who
decided it would be fun to run around the sprinkler with his eyes
closed. He ran smack into a tree. Whatever trait it is that caused
that child to think this was a good idea was obviously from my
husband's side of the family.
For nearly all children, it is not enough to merely dance in the
stream of water. They are compelled, for some unfathomable reason,
to try to stop the water from coming out of the sprinkler. However,
they don't actually want to stop the water, because if I turned it
off, they'd go ballistic. They just want to see if they can.
[to top of second column]
 |
 Even if I was using the garden hose to water my grass, my
children would find some way to be in front of the hose. They will
unerringly discover a perfectly logical reason to have to go over
the water, under it or through it, but never around it. Once, while
I was watering my garden, I tried to avoid an oncoming child because
I didn't want to change his clothes, again. Unfortunately, I yanked
the hose up to avoid the child, and the water hit my husband square
in the face. He was … less than pleased. I, of course, thought it
was hilarious.
My neighbor has a built-in, underground sprinkler system. Wisely,
I suppose, so as not to attract children, he has his system
automatically set to start sprinkling at 5 in the morning. I know
this, because I am usually trying to sleep at this time. Everybody
knows that it's not actually morning until at least 8 a.m.
Consequently, when his sprinkler system kicks on, it sounds like
enemy fire to my sleep-deprived brain; and at 5 o'clock every
morning I'm diving under my bed like a lunatic frantically trying to
locate the gun turrets and wondering whether we should make a run
for it. I can see the headlines of our local paper now: "Writer Dies
of Heart Attack; Sprinkler System Blamed."
[By LAURA SNYDER]
Laura Snyder is a nationally syndicated columnist,
author and speaker. You can reach her at
lsnyder@lauraonlife.com
or visit www.lauraonlife.com
for more info. |
