Running in puddles

My son loves puddles. If there’s a puddle to be found, he’ll find it.

No amount of me shouting “no” or asking him gently to go somewhere else will make any difference. No matter how big or small, he will get into it, and start walking up and down, and stomp his feet until he is soaking wet, and I start worrying about him getting a cold, remove him from said puddle, and head to the car to change him. Yes, no longer I am able to go out without at least one set of spare clothes (that included everything, down to a pair of spare socks). I only wish he could do all his feet stomping in the bath (let’s just say – without going into much detail – we struggle with bathtimes).

But then, where’s fun in that.

Toddler boy in red wellies running through a puddle in Bushy Park, Surrey

   

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