Hey it's raining and I'm not complaining

Northeast Ohio is in need of a good rain. Today the heavens opened up and poured down on us. But it waited for me to bring in my groceries with the help of Boy #1.
The thunder came first, off in the distance. Growing closer with each grocery bag we grabbed. The high winds were next but we only felt a couple drops by the time we unloaded the car with this weeks provisions. We felt a sense of accomplishment, Boy #1 and I did. He told me,
"I'm taking a nap, this is good sleeping weather."
And I said,
"Just listen for the crackle of broken tree limbs."
And I pointed outside his window,
"Because your dad and I are a little concerned that the dead limb on top of that tree is going to come down. Sweet dreams."
I went to the kitchen to put away my stuff and things. I had to stop one time because my flower stand on the front porch blew over. Wow, thinking to myself, it's really windy and the rain is going sideways, we needed this.
With the grocery's put away it was time for me to sit and relax with my mocha. The one I stopped for on my way home. The one whose taste still languished on my taste buds. The one I got for free because I had 6 stamps on my card. The one that was still in the car.
I said some bad words and looked at my car with my hands in my hips. Mocha has a firm grasp on my life, there was no question about it, I was going out there. I have a large umbrella I use to use for the boys ball games, I was sure it would be sufficient for a quick run down the steps and opening my car door for that delicious brew.
I made a quick mental plan, I have to do that or I will trip on my own feet, and I opened the door. The insufficient umbrella almost flew out of my hands. Had I been the weight that I was before my hormonal imbalance I might have flown away, so yay menopause. Reaching the car I fumbled with the umbrella, which was sideways, and the car door. I decided it was better to be soaking wet than spill my mocha. I was swearing like a drunken sailor by the time I skipped up the steps because another flower pot was blown over. My hands were kind of full and that flower pot waited there for me to save it. I said the eff word. Don't tell my mom.
Once in the house, soaking wet, mocha in hand, umbrella secure, I took a sip of my uncontrollable addiction. It was worth it.

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.