I loved — loved loved loved — running and jumping through the sprinkler when I was little.

Countless childhood memories surround this simple pleasure. It was hours upon hours of pure joyful entertainment.

I can still see me in my multi colored striped bathing suit making up games with the Brothers, or running from them as they came after me with the entire sprinkler system.

I can still feel the anticipation and excitement of a Saturday afternoon, watching TC rummage through the garage and set up the sprinkler in the backyard {right hand side}.

Today, after a quick pit stop to steal borrow toilet paper from TC {why can I never remember to buy it? I swear it’s like a permanent mental block}, I was headed home and still in a bit of Roid Rage. In short: suffering.

Regardless of it being a legit chemical reason, I’m tired of it. I’m going to call bullshit on those GD ‘roids. I know I am capable of directing my thoughts towards better feeling things … it might be a little more challenging right now, but I’m just going to have to suck it up and rise to the occasion.

Because suffering, on any level, really blows. It’s f-ing stupid. I can’t think of one GD positive thing suffering ever does or brings.

As I was driving, caught up in the stupid suffering roidness, a little girl running through a sprinkler caught my eye. Her exhilaration and joy was contagious. So contagious I actually pulled over and watched her for a few seconds in the rear view mirror. I swear, I’m not a weirdo, I just couldn’t help but be pulled into her happiness.

She took me right out of the suffering. I watched her sing and dance and shriek her way through the water and I thought … I want to be just like her.

I want to be so in the moment, living my happy, that I don’t give two shits who sees me singing and dancing as I go along. I’m not exactly known for either one of those things, but that’s completely irrelevant.

What is relevant? Rejoicing. I think that anything worth rejoicing about, like sprinklers, should be an indication of significance. Why is it I don’t see more of us adults running through sprinklers? At what point do we grow up and lose sight of these joys?

When I got home, I immediately was on the prowl for a sprinkler. I didn’t find one. That’s not to say there isn’t one sitting in the garage, there very well could be in some pile in a dark corner, way too many of those at the moment. Instead I found the second best thing: the hose. The hose is a hard thing to miss. Even for someone like me.

I turned it on and sat there splashing my feet. I played music. I remembered to water the plants. I purposely got wet. It was rejoicing.

Take that, Roid Rage.