The Moving Target

My daughter Lainey is four years old and I love her. If there’s a project to do around the house, she’s there trying to help, especially if it’s outside on a sunny day.

A friend and I recently removed the sod from the backyard, applied grub killer, fresh dirt, seed and the new grass is finally coming in nicely. I was watering the lawn when I saw Lainey watching me closely from the back porch.

“You wanna try?” I asked, offering the hose.

A big grin formed on Lainey’s face, she ran down and grabbed the nozzle.

“Whoa!” I yelled. When she took it, the water soaked one leg of my shorts.

“Sorry, daddy.”

“That’s cold!” I shivered, and then pointed, “Spray that spot over there.”

Lainey held the hose a foot from its end and watched it oscillate like a snake. She waved it back and forth wildly, and it sprayed me again.

“Lainey! No.” I warned. “Give me the hose.”

As I approached the kid she sprayed me again, then dropped the hose and ran off laughing.

“Can’t get me, dad!”

I wiped the water off my face and grinned. The little instigator was getting away fast so I turned the nozzle from spray to a nice, tight beam.

“Oh!” She yelled, arching her back when the cold water hit. 

“Nana-nana-nana!” Lainey shook her hips and waved her arms from the porch and I got her good.

“Can’t get me now, dad!” She yelled while she took cover under a lawn chair. To her delight, the spray reached her easily.

“My turn.” She said grabbing the hose.

We both held it now and I aimed it directly upward.

“It’s raining!” We laughed.

I ran and Lainey’s aim sprayed my legs. I took momentary cover in the garage and then jogged by so she could hit me a few more times. 

We were both soaked to the bone, and the lawn looked pretty wet too.

“That’s enough.” I smiled, and turned the spigot at the side of the house.

“What happened to you guys?” My wife exclaimed when we entered the kitchen.

“Water fight!” Lainey cheered as muddy water pooled around her sandals.