PuddlesPosted: September 7, 2014 | |
As we were getting ready to leave the house a little after 6 AM for our morning walk, thunder clapped, lightening flashed, the skies opened and buckets of rain began to fall. The street quickly filled across its width and rainwater began climbing the curb wall, lapping towards the outside edges of the sidewalks.
For the next hour the downpour would slow then increase then slow again, until finally, a little after 7, it seemed to stop. The sky was still full of gigantic, angry, grey cotton ball clouds, but they seemed to be lumbering away to the northwest.
Finally, at 7:45 Bill couldn’t stand it anymore. “We should go walk. It isn’t raining anymore,” he said, getting up from his computer and grabbing his ball cap.
“But it could start again,” I argued. “It’s supposed to do this all morning.”
“It’s okay for now, so let’s go,” he ordered, marching out of the room. “Move it, move it, move it,” he yelled back at me as he strode away down the hall.
I sighed, pulled on my own cap and followed him through the house. As I walked into the living room, I stopped by the sofa to let Mom know we were going to brave the elements.
“We’re heading out for our walk,” I said, gathering up her empty yogurt container. “Do you want your coffee now or when we get back?”
“Back? Back from where?” she asked, looking away from the TV.
“Our walk. We’re leaving now that the rain’s stopped,” I said.
“Well I don’t think that’s a very good idea,” she replied.
“Why not? It’s cooled down to 75 and the clouds are mostly gone.”
“But you could get wet,” she said with a furrowed brow and a negative shake of her head. “It’s all puddled out there.”
“We’ll stay on the sidewalk, Mom, I promise.”
“But the sidewalks might be puddled too,” she argued.
“Then we’ll jump over the puddles. Or walk through them. Or maybe splash in them. It could be fun,” I concluded, walking toward the Arizona Room and the door to the garage.
“Sure, if you’re six,” she pouted.
“Then it’ll be twice as much fun since I’m sixty-six,” I called over my shoulder.