You know that song, “Rain, rain, go away… Come again some other day”?
How about, “It’s raining, it’s pouring, the old man is snoring…”?
Yeah. My kid doesn’t.
Right now, we are sitting out on the porch watching the rain and hoping for a storm to roll in. My kid loves water, in all forms. Pools, hoses, taps, rain, snow… water ROCKS. She loves it in all its precipitational glory. So the fact that it is raining? Has her excited beyond measure.
Now, she’s not terribly verbal. So her way of indicating to me, and to the world at large, that she is excited about the rain, is to shout things like “RAIN!” and “MORE!” and “WOW!” as often as possible. And this full-throated appreciation of Mother Nature’s gifts is also accompanied by a little jitterbug of joy as she points at the rain and shouts “RAIN!” for the eleventybillionth time.
You know, in case the neighbouring province hasn’t heard that it is raining here.
She’s also doing this little thing in which (in her mind) she is being very sneaky and (in her mind) she can inch ever so slightly toward the porch steps and (in her mind) I will not notice that she has suddenly found herself standing out in said rain and, (in her mind) because she is already wet I will let her play in the rain.
Yeah. Noisy AND delusional.
So, her shouting and dancing and sneaking is periodically interrupted by me, very sternly saying her name, and pointing to the porch surface on which her bum should, in fact, be parked.
It’s a nice way to pass the time in a storm.
And when it is done? We (read: she) will spend our (read: her) time shouting “MORE!” in increasingly loud and desperate tones as her command for more rain goes unnoticed by the forces of nature.
If I had a crystal ball, I bet one of the visions of the future I would see is of a very old Stinkerbelle, on the phone, shouting at some poor sod at Environment Canada about every change in the weather.
Kind of makes me happy, that.