A Girl in a Yellow Rain Slicker in a Park

It is still raining, which doesn’t surprise anyone. It has been raining for the past three days, and the mud is superb, divine even. Just right to be played in by six-year-olds in outfits that ought not ever be out of doors. There is the girl kneeling in the sandbox just down the hill. The yellow rain jacket is fine for the weather; it is her white dress and shiny mary janes that aren’t quite the thing. It doesn’t matter to her. She’s having fun, regardless of the fact that the lacy fringes of her skirt may never get clean, and that her shoes have long since ceased to serve their purpose. The same descent into utter and glorious dirtiness has befallen her little poodle, which used to be white and isn’t anymore. They are digging a hole in the sand together. The hole is collecting water in it, and the little bark chips float on the surface. The other children on the playground are all little boys, and they are playing a game of tag. One of them splashes in the little girl’s puddle, and it looks like fun, so she jumps in it too. Everything is soggy except for her grin. She’s missing her two front teeth and she can wiggle her tongue between them. It’s a wonderful accomplishment.