Singin’ in the Rain

We’d been invited to a friend’s BBQ this weekend at 3pm. The morning had been bright and sunny, and our daughter had spent hours building sandcastles and digging worms in the garden. However, on the stroke of 3pm the heavens opened and heavy raindrops fell mercilessly – big, fat droplets turning the ground to mud.

In the warmth of our host’s house, the children pressed their noses against the windows, staring longingly at the swings, bouncy castle and balls turning cold and wet, abandoned in the grey outdoors. My daughter pleaded with the gloomy skies, “Rain, rain go away!”

A break in the storm and there was only one thing for it. Armed with towels and mugs of wine, the mummys and daddys trudged over the wet grass to wipe off the deserted toys. Then we rolled up our trousers. Shoes and socks were deserted by the open door, and we played in the wet grass.

Shrieks of laughter and joy filled the garden quicker than the rain had before it, and the sun shone in the kid’s faces in deference to the miserable weather. Hours later, we wrapped our daughter up to head home – exhausted but happy. Wet grass stuck like black zebra stripes to her legs and her toes were little blocks of ice. But she’d loved it. The singin’ in the rain.

1. 

   Joanne Tyler says:

   September 8, 2009 at 2:31 pm

   Where did you spring from and why haven’t I heard of you?

   Subscribed, check. Bookmarked, check.
2. 

   280 Days says:

   September 9, 2009 at 9:39 pm

   Thanks for reading Joanne. Glad you’ve found me! I really hope you continue to like what is to come.