Let’s run in the rain

If I could have, if my home owners association would have let me, I would have bought a cow when the boys were young and let it graze in the back yard. I'd go and squirt out a gallon or so of milk when I needed it. We were always at the store buying milk. As I watch the pouring rain I can remember back in 19 something, before the turn of the century, we were sitting in our mini van in the grocery store parking lot because we had to buy milk. The boys had their noses pressed up against the window, it was raining, monsoon type raining.
While a February rain is a damp, dreary unwelcome rain, summer rain can be embraced. It splashes down in our neighborhood leaving behind a rainbow of green grass, ripe red tomatoes, purple and pink petunias and that just rained fresh cleansing smell is in the air.
We sat in the car, like everyone else in the parking lot. We watched from our windows as people gathered under the stores overhang, all of us waiting it out. The raindrops were as big as grapes, they slammed down onto the hot pavement with a hiss creating a misty fog. I looked back at my boys, perhaps at that moment I saw an opportunity to make a memory or maybe I realized that they wouldn't be my little boys forever. Whatever it was, it was impulsive.
"Let's run in the rain."
All three heads whipped around towards me, with their mouths hanging open. By this time in their lives, they knew how I felt about getting my hair wet.
"Really mom?"
"Yes, let's run in the rain."
They grinned from ear to ear and bounce up and down in their seats.
"All of you go to the sliding door, I'll run around the car while I'm running you guys open the door, everybody gets out, we'll all hold hands and run for the doors. We still have to watch for cars. Sound like a plan?"
"Yeah." Said in unison. And still with those big grins on their faces.
According to plan the four of us ran in the rain, holding hands, stopping to look both ways for cars, giggling and laughing. Everyone that watched us laughed. Once in the store we dripped down every aisle we went. Our shoes sloshed and squeaked, we were soaked to our skin and happy as ever because we shared an unforgettable moment in time. We were rebels. Those are the times I look back on, those are the times I miss the most. I miss running in the rain.

This way I don't have to listen to you

A lot of bloggers write open letters as a post, I've never done one but today I feel compelled to do so, my life a leisure hangs in the balance.
I must address all the mom's of small children at community pools. My homeowners association forbids me to put a pool in my yard, so you, your children and I have to mingle all summer. I've come up with a few guidelines for you to follow.

1.) Sun screen, believe it or not, this can be applied to the child at home. That way when you get to the pool they can jump right in and I won't have to listen to you telling little Johnny to stand still when you slather him up and I won't have to listen to him whine about how you got it in his eyes.

2.) Cell phones, there's over a 50% chance that your child will drip on it, because you're at a pool, that big cement pond filled with water. There's over a 50% chance your hair will get wet too, actually everything you bring to the pool can and will get wet eventually, so put them in a plastic bag or don't bring them, this way I don't have to listen to you yell at your children for something that is your fault.

3.) Water-wings are stupid. If people trust you enough to carry your child around on land with out a parachute then you should be trusted to hold them in a pool without dropping them. If they are older put them in a pool that they can touch the bottom and teach them to swim, water-wings give a kid a false sense of security, teach them to rely on themselves, this way I don't have to listen to you and your child whine about putting them on.

4.) The Ice Cream Truck. When it parks itself in the swimming pool parking lot, commit to either always buying an over priced popcycle or never buying an over priced popcycle. There is no middle ground when it comes to the ice cream truck, this way I don't have to listen to your child badger you for $3.00 continuously.

5.) Marco Polo, take your children home if they play this stupid, God-forsaken game.....please.

I, in turn, will try to be quiet while I read my book.

Just Call Me Fat-Ass

Because it's only a matter of time before it's true. Half the summer is gone and I've done far less strenuous activities than previous summers. I've gone to the pool but I find myself napping instead of swimming and that might explain the uneven-ness of the tan this year. An even tan is a full-time job, it isn't easy.
I blame EntreCard and blogging.
I fear I may be setting a poor example for the dog. She likes to follow me around, she's found a comfortable spot near my computer. The both of us will have an ass the size of a bus if we continue down this lazy path of inactivity. We're going on a walk tonight, as soon as I finish these Reese's Cups.