Mud Skippers

In raising my children, I have lost my mind but found my soul. ~Lisa T. Shepherd

My kids and I had an Amazing Race this morning at the Bukit Timah Nature Reserved Park. It was an event organized by the parent volunteers committee of my kids’ school.

It had been raining since last night. It reduced to a drizzle by dawn and lasted throughout the morning. It didn’t diminish our excitement but built up the dirt and mud on the grounds we treaded.

During the race, we were required to perform designated activities at every station in order to get a piece of clue to our puzzle.

The first station required us to climb up a wooden pyramid and cross a rope bridge. Just a few steps up the wooden logs, the kids started to make some noises.

“Mummy! I need to wash my hands!” Mervin exclaimed when he reached the top of the pyramid.

“It’s just the beginning of the race! Get dirty and get going!” I rebuked.

Angel was the next.

“Mummy! There are so many puddles on the ground! My shoes are going to get dirtied!” she paused on the brink of a puddle considering how to get around the puddle without getting her shoes wet.

“If you keep standing here, we can forget about completing the race! Just step into the shallowest point and get going!” I pushed her along.

Even Rachel couldn’t resist nudging me halfway into the race.

“Mummy, my feet were all soaked up.”

“Did you step into a whole puddle of water?”

“No, but I had two holes at the front of both my shoes.”

“Then why did you still wear it here?” I fumed a little.

“I forgot!” she retorted.

I couldn’t really blame the kids as they didn’t really have much chance to get downright dirty. In fact, I always remind them to keep themselves clean no matter what activities they are involved in. When they paint, they have to make sure that the paint doesn’t get onto their hands and clothes. When they eat, they have to make sure that the food doesn’t end up on their clothes. When they sweat, they have to make sure they don’t sit or lie down on my floor (This time is to ensure my floor is clean!).

Hence, I only had myself to blame for their being overly-conscious of their cleanliness.

“This is the only time you can get dirty without me getting angry.” I added.

Initially, the kids grumbled, grouched and groaned along the way at all the dirt they got on their hand and the mud splattered onto their shoes and legs. But as the race got more intense, they forgot about the filth and began to soak up the fun.

I looked at our shoes, and thought of the amount of time I’ll have to spend to get those mucks off. I looked at their faces, and put all those worries to the back of my head.

By the end of the race, we had four pairs of mud-sodden shoes, eight pairs of dirt-streaked limbs but four brightly-lit faces. And to make things better, our team tied with another team in the first place!

Nothing on the world can beat the contented looks on the kids’ faces when they received their well-deserved prize.

My eyes drifted to their feet, drew back onto their faces, and stayed there, with the widest grin I could bare.