It was wet this morning when it was time to meet the school bus. We went anyway. That’s the rule apparently.
How about we just not walk down to meet the bus this morning? Stay at home where it is cozy and dry?
Can’t. Gotta go to school. That’s the rule.
Umbrellas helped. The big fat black one and the little green frog one. The wind blew. Pants were moistened. My daughter got on the bus with her arms wrapped about her. Smart kid.
Walking back to the house with her brother was wetter. We walked into the wind. He hardly noticed. He wanted to stay out, in fact. At another time I would have encouraged it. Get wet! Romp in the rain! Play in the puddles! But we had to go. The clock is a cruel master.
The rain had stopped by the end of the school day. The sun brightened the tops of the clouds. My daughter and I walked back, dry. We laughed at her water bottle; it seems the bottom came unglued. “We’ll have to glue gun it,” she tells me. Indeed. We also laughed at her description of playing Twister with her classmates. She was the first one out. She didn’t mind.
It rains and your pants get wet. You fall down first in the game. Don’t mind that. There is laughing and playing to be done.