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Re: Mud Walk


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Posted by Wet Dad on April 08, 2021 at 16:09:18

In Reply to: Re: Mud Walk posted by Luke on April 08, 2021 at 10:22:16:

Hi Luke. It was fun getting so wet and muddy, we were all soaked to the skin in quick order and after that the mud just followed. I will try and remember to add details of clothing in future.

Sam was in grey jeans (hand-me downs from his brothers so a bit too long in the leg and a size bigger than he likes, but good enough for mudding), a grey tee with a grey and green striped hoodie on top, socks and some old trainers. He loves getting really muddy so was quite happy to be rolled around in the sloppiest mud and be dragged through puddles, his brothers even filled the hood of his top with mud and then pulled it over his head, he ended up completely mud brown from head to toe and loved every minute of it.

Barney and Alan were in their favourite blue jeans (there are no ā€˜bestā€™ jeans or those that can get wet or muddy in their wardrobes, everything is fair game) which they like in skinny fit. Iā€™m not keen on them but as they are both quite tall and skinny themselves, the skin-tight fit does suit them. Barney had a navy tee and lighter blue sweatshirt on top and the usual socks and scruffy trainers. Alan had a maroon hoodie over a red tee and his favoured footwear for these occasions, a pair of wellington boots. He likes it when they fill with mud and water and he can sit down on the ground and roll on his back with his feet in the air so that they empty down his legs and get him even wetter and muddier. Strange boy.

I was wearing old jeans (I am an illustrator and artist so all my older casual clothes are smeared with paint and so canā€™t get any more ruined), a black tee and a grey sweatshirt on top. I was also wearing wellington boots. I usually wear a pair of swimming trunks (not shorts) under my jeans for these occasions, no point in ruining some decent underwear. I guess the boys would have been in their usual boxer-briefs.

Clean up after these walks is a painless but somewhat cold affair of getting hosed down to get rid of the mud and then all our clothes getting hung out to dry, we only put the really badly mud stained things like socks and underwear in the was immediately, most jeans, tees, sweatshirts and hoodies seem to be acceptably clean for further wear until they are due for their washing. Sadly my wife and the boys mother, Annie, is no longer with us as she died some five years ago giving birth prematurely to our daughter, who also passed away a few hours after her mother.

It was Annie who instigated these walks when Sam was about five years old. He had always annoyed his older brothers by jumping in puddles and getting them wet when doing so and it was she who formalised it after one particularly acrimonious walk which ended with the boys at each othersā€™ throats about getting unexpectedly wet. She was so fed up with the bickering and blaming of each other that when we got home she suddenly declared ā€œQuiet all of you. Next time we do this you can all get yourselves and your dad and I as wet and muddy as you like. You can wear any casual or sports kit you like and I wonā€™t object to it getting soaked or dirty ā€“ you can sort your own washing out when you get home so I wonā€™t be having a moan about you getting messy again. Any objections?ā€ Or words to that effect.

The boys were so shocked at this sudden uncharacteristic outburst that not a word was said. The next time we went out everyone dressed in old jeans and tees, it was early summer and warm but had been raining a lot. We live in the country on the edge of a small village near a major river and lots of farmland with streams, drainage ditches and small ponds and lakes dotted everywhere, a lot of the land floods during wet winters and after heavy rains so there is plenty of opportunity for puddle jumping and splashing along wet footpaths and tracks. We got home from that first walk under the new regime, mostly soaking wet from the knees down and splashed with mud but Sam was the only one who had actually dived into a long puddle on one of the tracks and was thoroughly soaked from head to toe.

Over the next few times the twins joined in more and more and got bolder and bolder in getting their mum and I wet and muddy as well. Eventually on one particularly warm spring day after a seemingly endless wet period we ended up at a small pond which we were due to walk around and then head back home. I suddenly remembered going there with my mates when I was a boy, probably 10 years old - a bit older than the twins were at the time ā€“ and we had dared each other to go swimming fully clothed. All of us boys had trudged home soaking wet having had a great time. So as we approached the pond, I shouted out to the boys ā€œCome on, last one in the pond is a sissy!ā€ and racing them to the pondā€™s edge. I and Sam jumped straight in but the twins hesitated on the edge and just watched us splashing about, but after their mum caught up with us and told them they were sissies as she jumped in as well, we all had a good splash around and went home in high spirits dripping wet.

Seven months later, Annie died giving premature birth to the little one we had conceived after getting home that day; we had locked ourselves in the bedroom and had a fun time in our wet clothes as the boys were cleaning themselves up and getting changed. That fun wet time all together was the fore-runner to many more occasional muddy and wet times and I think those fun times helped us cope and become closer as a family. Iā€™m lucky to have my parents living just a short drive away so get help with the boys if needed and I have an older brother and sister with kids of their own who live within sixty miles so we have a large network of family. Annieā€™s family ā€“ parents and a sister - also live nearby and the boys actually go to the same school as their two cousins who are 14 and 16. So we are not alone by any means.


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