Last night was the first time in a long time where, for a few precious moments, I felt like a kid again. As usual I was enjoying my evening sitting outside in my front yard, along with my mom, my sister and my neighbor. Out of the blue we felt raindrops on our shoulders.
“Oh, it’s just a passing cloud,” we say. “It’ll end soon. Who cares if we get a little wet, let’s just wait this cloud out.”
(Soundtrack of the moment: “Raindrops keep falling on my head.” A few raindrops didn’t mean our eyes would soon be turning red — Crying’s not for us! Ha!)
The raindrops, however, persisted. And so inevitably we split off into three distinct camps: my sister and I, who kept the hope alive that the rain would stop; my mother, who kept nagging us to move the table under the covered area of our yard even though there was no possible way all four of us would fit under there; and our neighbor, who was at a loss of words – she wasn’t sure who to follow. Like those friends we all had when we were young; the ones who stayed undecided until they were forced to join a side.
And so we spend a good 10 minutes trying to come to a decision.
“Let’s just wait it out!”
“No, let’s move under cover!”
“It’s not that bad, the rain is easing up!”
“Are you kidding me, it’s feeling stronger to me now!”
“I don’t really know what to do…”
Turns out we were all wrong because from a few scattered raindrops the sky opens up and dumps a big ‘ole bucket of water on us. We literally had to run for cover. We were soaked to the bone within seconds. It was the type of rain that incapacitated any momentary activity. It was the type of rain that was so strong and noisy it muted out any ongoing conversations. So much for hoping summer would last a little longer.
“Mom, should we pick up the plates from the table?”
“No, just forget it, don’t pick up anything, let’s go inside until the rain subsides.”
“Ok, but, Mom, where are you going?”
“I’m just picking up the plates really quick.”
Well, you can’t just let your crazy mother sit outside in the rain trying to clean up the soaked pizza, the watered down Bailey’s on ice and beer, and our bag of pumpkin seeds (if anything, this information reveals that we are true connoisseurs when it comes to food.) So we all go out in the rainy deluge to pick up whatever we can and try to tip toe back into the house because to walk on really wet tiles with slippery sandals is an invitation to a cracked coccyx.
So all four of us find ourselves in the house, soaked to the bone, plates and cups filling our hands, wanting to put everything in the sink but at the same time fearing my mother’s reaction if we make a wet footprint trail to the kitchen. The only thing I could do was burst out laughing because the situation just seems so ridiculous. We had reverted to being 12-year-olds camping in our backyard and we were caught in the rain. And our manicures would be ruined!
“I can’t believe I watered the plants this afternoon. And damn it, I washed the cars yesterday. All my work is ruined.”
“It’s ok, Mom, let’s just make sure that the water stops leaking in from under the door…”
It turns out the rain was quite serious. Some people’s homes and basements were flooded. My brother couldn’t drive his ass back home because the road was flooded with so much water he could have been pushed out to sea. My sister couldn’t drive her ass back to her house. Thankfully everyone was ok. It was an evening full of unwanted excitement.
Leave it to me to feel like a kid again on a night like this.