Peter loved to jump in the puddles, splashing the water all around as he did so.
Walking in the rain with his dog, Barnaby, was such fun. Splash, stamp, splash, jump.
He may have been fifty-three, but that didn’t mean his childhood had to be over.
Some called him childish, others childlike. Some said he had lost a few marbles and was living entering his second childhood.
Whatever, for Peter none of that mattered. He just was, and had no intention of letting that spark of the child within fade.
For what is life without fun?