Jump in a Puddle.

Well, today is Jump in a Puddle and Splash your Friends Day. First of all, this is just plain rude. Second of all, Bartlesville, Oklahoma is completely 100% puddle free today. It snowed yesterday. The snow is still on the ground…. unmelted. This is a problem. I needed a puddle today. I needed to ruin my friends shoes or at least splash them.

Well I had to get creative. I asked Tom Beard, my cool 10-year-old brother, if he had seen any puddles. He had spent 4+ hours in 19 degree weather and I figured if anyone had seen a puddle it would be him. Well he leads me into the garage and shows me the melted snow on the garage floor. Eh… it just wasn’t going to cut it.

I had to get creative. I thought I would tell some funny puddle stories, some puddle anxiety I have and then the crowning jewel of puddle photographs of my previous mentioned cool 10-year-old brother.

I’ll start with puddle anxiety. Rain is great. It’s awesome. Hydrating. Yada yada yada. But I don’t like accidentally stepping in a puddle. The lurk near sidewalks hoping to inhabit your socks. They are lame. They are deceptively deep and spooky. There are always strange worms swirling at the bottom.

Freshman year of college I got rainboots. Just like every other freshman girl. They are hideous. I’ll admit it, but they are ultra useful when traversing puddles. I felt invincible with these boots. I could squash the puddle worms and my socks were perpetually safe. OR SO I THOUGHT.

There came a day when I was walking on campus in the rain and my socks were suddenly a little colder than usually. Could it be? Could the craftsmanship of my $20 Target boots be deteriorating?!?! Could my investment in rubber shoes be coming to an end?!?! The answer is yes. My boots were leaking. A travesty in the shoe world and for my socks.

I would occasionally forget that my boots had begun to leak and I’d wear them in the rain again. I would quickly get sad and cold and then pissed. There is nothing worse than wet socks. Nothing can ruin your day faster than wet socks. So that’s why I have puddle anxiety. Leaky boots, mysterious depths, general annoyingness.

So here’s another puddle story. I went to London this past summer for 6 weeks. My friend Alex and I knew that being in a foreign country was going to be difficult for our daily chats. She told me she would send me one text a day. And she did. I would laugh at inappropriate times and just be generally pleased when I saw that I had a text from her. One day her text read as follows:

“It’s pouring. I’m driving. I see a girl in a dress and heels on the sidewalk. I purposely drove through a puddle and completely soaked her. Don’t wear fancy clothes in the rain, ya retard.”

Needless to say, this might not be the best etiquette for sidewalk dwellers. But it’s Alex and she’s hilarious and probably as crazy as I am.

This specific instance is another one of my puddle fears. I am so scared that I’ll be walking and get sprayed by a car driving through a puddle on the side of the road. I thought it was irrational. But then Alex told me of her puddle and driving scenario. Now I’m terrified.

So lastly, I will give you my most favorite picture of a puddle scene of all time. My little brother was probably 4 or 5 when this was taken. He is awesome. You’ll see why. My mom let him hang out in a puddle for hours and got the resulting pics. Totally worth it.


Tom Beard rules.



Tom Beard still rules.


So happy nonexistent puddle day.


Scared of Puddle Worms





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4 responses to “Jump in a Puddle.

  1. I’m officially an awful person.

  2. This is your best post yet. Not that I’m invited or authorized to pass such judgments (although I AM a professional editor), but I still feel like proclaiming your best yet.

    And your friend? Not nice. Sorry friend, but I swear if you did that to me, I would hunt you down and hurt you. I’m suggesting you proceed with caution in the future. You’ve heard of road rage, right? Don’t make headlines by inspiring puddle rage. Our society’s civility is hanging on by a thread and I don’t want to read about your tragedy in the paper.

  3. Charlene

    Puddles make me happy. When I was a kid I used to love it when my dad would drive through the puddles and make a huge wave. I would beg. He would grin and then he would swerve. It was awesome. I also loved playing in the puddles on Beech Street. Fun memories. So, here’s to you, Kate Beard, for reminding me of how much I enjoy puddles. xoxo

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