Sweat beads on tiny noses and pleas for less clothing quickly follow.
I pry open the bottle of sunscreen left abandoned to it's winter home in the closet and say a silent prayer that it will keep my children's creamy white skin safe.
Articles of extra clothing fly off their bodies in eager anticipation of what awaits outside. The swish of Lycra, the slapping of naked feet against pavement and wood as tiny legs propel themselves to the cool dampness of the lawn. They wait.
The nozzle sings a staccato song in squeaky protest of disuse; rubber creaks and groans as it swells and fills with cool water rushing to fill it's hollow void. There's a spit, a sputter and a final whoosh as the water forces it's way out of the sprinkler head into a glorious fountain. Sunlight greats the droplets and momentarily transforms the gentle cascade to a crystalline state.
Bodies blur in motion. Cool water meets hot skin and a simultaneous shriek of shock and relief fills the air. Over and over they gallop, hop and dodge through the arms of their watery escape.
With teeth chattering they retreat to the warmth of their terry-cloth islands. Off goes the water. The ground is sodden and their wrinkled skin tells the story of their water-filled escapades.
There is truly no greater combination than sunshine and water.
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