What do you do after sharing a mud wallow with 50-ish kids, inviting them to cover you completely with as much mud as they can, tossed, splatted and smeared from your hat to your toes, all over your clothes and skin, for nearly two hours?
Well hell, first, of course, you bask and revel in the smiles and laughs, both from the kids and from the parents. Because that was just fun--the entire point of the Mud Games exercise.
Then you might wonder a bit at yourself, since you didn't plan to be That Crazy Dad, specifically, going in. It was just the right decision at the right moment. "Made sense at the time," and all that.
When it breaks up, you do the initial wipe- and shake-off, then scrape the 1"+ layer of mud that remains after that off your hat and torso, and permit the better half to garden-hose you from head to toe, with water that is really exceptionally cold. (This is an outdoor tap in Alaska, after all.)
Finally, you make it back to the car, quietly transfer what nobody has noticed from body to an available Safepacker, and improvise a change in clothes for the drive home.
Some days are more gratifying than others. :-)