I was desperate for some fresh air this afternoon, so I packed the kids up into the stroller, even though it was later than I’d planned to leave and Vic didn’t want to cooperate about getting dressed. After all the hoops had been jumped through, the clothes put on the kid and my purse located, I pushed the stroller out into what had seemed to be a fairly bright if moderately overcast day, only to find that evil-looking clouds were hovering on the horizon.
“Bah, humbug,” I said to myself, “we’ll just scoot on over to BART and get into town and we’ll be inside by then if it rains.”
Famous last words. We made it down the block and across the street to Walgreens where I picked up an umbrella, “just in case” and a new foot-operated pump for the stroller, bike and bike trailer tires. Outside it was sprinkling as we turned onto the overpass towards BART, so I stopped, opened the umbrella and handed it to Vic. I could handle a little rain, no problem.
Ten minutes later, we had turned around and were half way home, struggling to keep a straight line on the sidewalk as torrential floods of rain poured down onto us. Julien is the only one who stayed completely dry, cozy and snugged up in the cocoon in the baby compartment of the stroller. He just smiled at the raindrops sliding along the plastic cover above his head and cooed brightly, even as the water seeped into my coat and dragged the sleeves down.
I couldn’t help smiling back at him, he seemed so fascinated by the patterns the rain made, but it was a pretty miserable walk back to the house. Vic’s socks and the bottoms of his pants got soaked through, I got wet to the skin from top to bottom, and I didn’t get any of the things done that I wanted to. I’ve got outdoorsy plans for tomorrow too, but there’s more rain on the forecast, so I may need to rethink.
For now, I’m curling up on the bed with the laundry, a hot cup of tea, the baby and Vic, whenever he wanders through from his Victorly activities. If I can’t go outside, I may as well get all the clean clothes put away, right? Of course, the temptation is to pop in a movie and veg out on the couch instead. Resistance is futile? We’ll see.