Mud Bath 

Mud bath …by Francis the Frenchie

Francis the Frenchie

“Francis escaped again,” I heard. I’m certain Dad was also wearing a sour face of annoyance.

I may not make bath time the easiest, but this was the roughest one to date, according to Dad. After bolting through the doggie door, I hopped back into the first mud puddle of the rainy season—the best one!

This was his fourth failed attempt to get me into the bath. Patience had filtered from his face.

To my surprise, Dad said, “Okay…Fine…,” and settled into the mud with me, and we played until I was too tired to escape again.

Word Count: 99

Prompted from Carrot Ranch Flash Fiction Challenge at:

Prompted from Reena’s Xploration at:

Prompted from Three Things Challenge at:

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