The kids played in the rain today (Tuesday May 13, 2014). This is the stuff childhood memories are made of.
I remember playing in the rain. The entire neighborhood would come out and we would jump in the fantastic puddles our poorly drained street would get. I swear I could nearly swim in those knee-high puddles. I insist this is not some poorly recollected exaggeration. My childhood town used to have flooded streets all the time. They have since improved the drainage. I feel bad for modern children in that town because they will never know the pure joy of swimming in street puddles.
I remember one time we were running around the house in the rain and I stepped on a snake. It was a stupid garter snake but it felt nasty under my feet. It was so unexpected. My brother killed that snake. I think it was his way of protecting me.
In college there was an insane rainfall. The streets turned to rapids and the soccer field and parking lots flooded. The water was halfway up the cars. I lost my flip flops crossing the street-rapids. The force of the water literally pulled them off my feet. Mark remembers standing at the window of his job and watching me chase my shoes down the street. To this day he laughs quite a lot at my expense. I can’t help but laugh also. I must have looked quite ridiculous. I should of just let the shoes wash down into the Hudson River.
I am watching my children as they are running and sliding. Splashing and jumping. They are soaked and muddy. Sadly the puddles here aren’t nearly as epic as the ones from my childhood but they don’t know this and they are quite pleased to be playing in the rain. Their laughter is joyous and heartwarming against the chill of this spring rain. I can’t help but laugh along with them as I stand under my multi-colored striped umbrella. This is a rain shower blessing.