"Oushide, oushide!" Cate yells anxiously, stuck on repeat until someone opens the door. I am so thankful that that 'someone' gets to be me today.
We start by blowing bubbles, which is satisfactory for all of about 30 seconds. She wants to be the one to blow them, but she always exhales upward, swooping her bangs into the air instead of streaming her breath through the bubble wand. Then she sticks the wand in her mouth.
Therefore, the soapy liquid not being useful for its intended purpose, it is instead used as sidewalk paint. Dad is away for the afternoon and it's just us girls, so I say to heck with all decorum. Let's get our hands dirty...and our legs...and our toes...and well, you get the idea.
When she finishes with the bubbles, I grab the water hose to spray off the sidewalk and water the rose bushes. When the flowerbed is encompassed in inviting, luscious mud, her toes can't stand the separation a minute longer. She digs them in like blissful little sausage-shaped worms. She keeps squealing, "Mess!" and giggling in delight.
Finally, the clothes are drenched, she's covered in mud, and she's starting to get a little cold. "Bath," she says decisively and we head inside.
I take one more sniff of wet earth before she pulls me through the door, and little footprints are left to disappear on the sidewalk.