Frozen Puddles

When I was a kid I always liked to check on every puddle on my way to school.
I liked the crunchy sound under my feet. The frozen puddles in minus 15.
Because my school was far away and I had to go one hour earlier, so it was at 6 am, I was one of the first ones to break the thin layer of ice.

The other day I walked behind a mother and her 5 years old son. He liked the puddles too. Thankfully his mom was near him and she did not let him but a distance of a stretched hand. All the rest of the puddles on the narrow street were mine that day.

I think my nephew inherited it from me. When he goes to visit grandma, he asks his mom to bring his rubber shoes in spring and autumn. Otherwise he is puddle-wet anyway. Don’t blame on him! It is genes.