Sprinklers

We have never owned a sprinkler. I guess it’s because we’ve never owned a house and while we maintain our yard, the fact that it lives or dies doesn’t particularly matter to us. Or maybe it’s because my Scottish spend-thrift ways rear their ugly head and yell at the thought of our water bill rising. (For, I confess, I have turned into my dad and am constantly telling the kids to turn off the water or go get a job to pay for it!) Either way, we have never owned a sprinkler.

This summer, though, Emry and Ethan have been introduced to a sprinkler and the fun it can be. At a Bible study small-group we attend most Thursdays, the family has turned on their sprinkler so Emry, Ethan and the other two little girls their ages can play in it. It’s actually one that is created for playing in, not watering the lawn. So, I learned, at least Emry thinks that is the purpose of a sprinkler: to play in.

Around here, spring was sopping wet. It rained constantly. So much, in fact, a lot of the fields didn’t get planted at all because they were under water. (So expect an increase in prices on anything that contains corn.) But over the last couple of weeks, that has ceased. Rain has been next to non-existent and the yards and gardens are starting to show the signs of a lack of water. So, our elderly neighbor across the street got out her sprinkler this week to water her lawn. We were getting in the car to go somewhere and Emry noticed it. It was simply watering the lawn, not a soul in sight. Which didn’t make any sense to Emry for…

“Mama,” she asked, “why doesn’t she have any kids to play in her sprinkler?”

I laughed. For in some ways, Emry is right. What use is a sprinkler without some kids to enjoy it?