I'm pretty sure if you were looking for a Floridian whose favorite season is summer, you won't find one. (Well, you might, I guess, because there are a lot of people in this state with questionable decision-making skills.) But it probably won't be the parent of a small child -- a child with energy to burn and only an anthill-sized pile of options, thanks to the heat and humidity.
There's the pool, if you've got one. The beach, if it's feasible. The park, if it's before 7 a.m. And all of those options go out the window when a tropical storm with a typo in her name comes along and dumps rain all over the place for 72 hours.
Near the end of Debby's rain (ha!), I finally came up with an idea to get out of the house: puddle jumping. (Yeah, I know it's obvious. I'm a little slow sometimes.) So with rainboots on and an umbrella in hand, we went out in search of a good puddle for splashing.
And we found a little one.
Considering all the massive puddles I saw while out driving, I really expected more.
So we went around the block to find something bigger. But it turned out it was more fun to play with an umbrella anyway.
So we headed back home.
And just when we got home, we were surprised to find that Daddy left early to avoid rain sloshed traffic.
And we were done.
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