A few minutes later, we heard the peaceful backyard erupt into a chorus of terrified screams. Literally, all at once. There was no warm-up cry or gradual crescendo - it was all out chaos, all at once. Everyone's first thought (except mine) was that someone had gotten stabbed with the stake. I ran out there first and saw the funniest sight of my life.
The sprinklers had come on, and the kids were getting rained down on. They were all hysterically crying (except for the oldest girl, who's 8) and running around frantically. Leighton was the first to near the door, so I grabbed him. By then, the other parents had gotten out there and we were all scooping up wet kids. Eva was the funniest - she was paralyzed with fear and was running back and forth, never near the door, and screaming at the top of her lungs.
Us parents could hardly move, we were laughing so hard. We wrapped all the kids in towels and sat in the kitchen laughing and calming down from the adrenaline rush from the initial screams. Thankfully, nobody was hurt.
The only problem is that, come summer, my kids may still be suffering from post-traumatic stress syndrom and REALLY won't play at the splash pad!