Take, Carson my 5 yr old, who has apparently never seen an automatic sprinkler in his entire sheltered existence. I know, gasp!, I mean I do try to keep them as sheltered as possible, but I guess a mom can't shield her kids from everything the US may expose them to.
So there was my little unsuspecting 5 year old, gallivanting across the lawn in my mother's backyard. I'd been trying to convince him to come into the house and enjoy his breakfast, but to no avail. I was just at the point of death threats that went something like this--
"Carson Douglas James if you do not get your butt in this house right now, I'll--"
When all at once the nasty, mean sprinklers popped their ugly heads up and pummeled him with gallons of water from every direction. The poor kid froze and panicked. I could barely make out his sputtered reaction,
"Mom! Mom! What... is... happening... to... me?" Spit, cough, sputter. "What is.... this thing?" Hack, spat. "Why is the ground....spitting on me???? WHY??? HELP ME!"
I laughed. Of course I did. What else was I supposed to do? Seriously, he should always listen to his mom in the first place.
But I do have to admit I laughed louder a couple of days later when he came in the house soaked again--having just had his second bout with the sprinklers and lost.
"Mom! Grandma's yard is crazy! It keeps attacking me with water for no reason! I don't think it likes kids on it's lawn. That's it. I don't care what you guys say, I'm playing inside!!"