Puddles

Tell me, why does God make puddles, in our driveway, when it rains? Then mom says "play but, don't get dirty, cuz I won't get out the stains" God made me, to love that feeling, of jumping in them with both feet I'll send that water flying, maybe as high as mom and daddy's seat Then mom yells "girl you know better, look at the mess you've made Our clothes and shoes, filthy, wet and dirty, like a monkey in the arcade This child constantly tries my patience, dear God why is she such a pest? Astonished by Gods answer “when teaching lessons, I use my very best”