A Soaking Event

I had a brief conversation with a FaceBook friend this morning; he’d posted that he was going to watch his grandsons play baseball today. A familiar pain touched my heart as I was once again reminded how far away my grandsons are. I’ve missed almost all of those games and, too, simply just being with them–around them–as they grew up. This poem describes one of the precious few times I was able to see them doing what little boys do… playing in the water hose on a hot summer day….

A Soaking Event 

Two little boys, dad with the hose; they watch him and scream with fright

They warn he better not squirt them; yet, secretly, hope he might

Dad knows the game and watches; from the corner of a knowing eye

As they dance and run and laugh; ‘neath the summer sun on high


Just a flick of the wrist at first; a drop of water hits a smiling face

They yell with delight, run in a circle; and then ‘round the house they race

Mom’s watching out the window; smiling, she watches her boys

Love in her eyes a dancing; as their laughter and glee she enjoys


Around the house they come running; the hose man waiting this time

Douses them good, a soaking event; they scream and then turn on a dime

And so the game goes on for a while; ‘til they can’t run another lap

Though exhausted they argue bravely; ‘gainst the theory of afternoon nap


With much grumbling they lay on the mat; smiles wide, they replay the scenes

Visions of more games tomorrow; in their eyes, and then…. In their dreams


Copyright © 1998 C. Mashburn


  1. Brenda Lewis said

    Awesome poem & oh so true! Been there, done that with sons, & now grandsons! Love it!

  2. Sherry said

    one of the memorable, more simple joys of summers gone by

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