Tuesday, September 22, 2020

He Didn't Like to Get Muddy


He didn't like to get muddy, but he liked playing with the kids who liked to get muddy. This meant that he often appeared to be outside of their play. Adults would sometimes pity him when they spied him at the fringes or hiding behind trees in order to avoid getting splashed, but he resisted their efforts to coach him, insisting "I am playing with them." Sometimes, a particularly incensed adult would scold the other kids for not including "everyone," but they would all, the mud-lovers and the mud-avoider alike, blankly stare the way children do when they find themselves "in for it," but don't know why. It reminded me of Wally's shrugged line from the old Leave it to Beaver television program: "Ah, don't worry about it Beav, sometimes grown-ups just like to holler at kids." 

I knew that this boy was aware that the separation between himself and his friends during these muddy games was his own doing. I knew this because he told me: "I like to play with those guys, but they're getting muddy and I don't like getting muddy." He wasn't asking for them to change their game for him, nor did he seek my advice, so I didn't offer it. If he wished they would play something else, he didn't express it, although the moment they would leave the muddy area, he would leap right into the center of whatever game they were playing. As long as we adults stayed out of it, he chose the role of an actively silent observer, constantly watching, moving around for different views, getting closer when the group conversation dropped into quieter tones, then racing to a distance when the splashing started. He didn't want to miss anything, but the mess. 

In other words, he didn't begrudge them their fun, nor did he judge himself for opting to remain relatively outside of the action, which, I reckon, is a good lesson for us all.

One day, a group was busy digging a deep hole downhill from the pump with the idea of trying to fill it up with water. They were standing in the dry hole to dig. Meanwhile, another group was busy at the pump filling a large muck bucket. This was a 20 gallon bucket and their part in the project was to fill it, then dump it down the hill. The water would, they hoped, fill or perhaps even overflow the hole. In fact, they had named their game "Major Overflow" with that objective in mind.

Both parts of the project, the digging and the bucket filling, were labor intensive and took enough time that the two groups seemed to lose track of one another. The diggers had managed a hole that was as deep as their waists and, their backs turned to the water pump, they intended to go even deeper. The water pumpers, on the other hand, had filled their bucket and were now wrestling with it in the effort to upend it. The boy saw that the kids in the hole were about to get soaked up to their waists, which would, of course, overtop their rubber boots. He cupped his hands to his mouth and began to call out, "Watch out! Watch out! Major overflow coming! Major overflow coming!

Thanks to this timely warning, the diggers were able to scramble out of the hole just in time. After the whooping and hollering had died down, they went to work on a second round of the project. This time, the boy moved back and forth between the two groups, officiously conveying useful information. "The bucket is almost full. The bucket is almost full," or "The hole is not ready. The hole is not ready." Then, "The bucket is full. The bucket is full," and "The hole is ready. The hole is ready." 

When it was time to dump the bucket, he began to chant, "Watch out! Watch out!" with the rest of kids joining him, "Watch out! Watch out!" The water flowed, they all cheered, then it was back to work, everyone playing together.

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