another kind of rain

OK… and then there is the other kind of rain, the kind that just sticks around, being quiet and lasting forever long, making me feel kind of mopey. It’s a great kind of rain for when you’re at home by yourself and you can make a cup of tea and curl up on the sofa with a good book, and perhaps a cookie or two. Or when you have a sleepy babe and you get to wrap yourself around his or her warm little body and nap. It’s not-so-great when you have one such babe and then a preschooler who wants desperately to do anything but nap and is literally bouncing on the bed and spinning round and round.

Is this the voice of experience? Oh, yes, it is. So, after a long morning of Owen contending with two sleepy kinfolk and one really long, gentle rain, I figured I owed it to him for a little puddle-stomping. So, out we went, with Willow in a high back carry in the Kozy and an umbrella overhead.

The snails were out in full force, and Owen found a good collection to take along for the walk. He eagerly showed them to several neighborhood girls, who were quite good-natured about ooh-ing and ah-ing over them. I was a little worried these particular snails were doomed to live out the remainder of their days in Owen’s bug box, along with the pill bug remains from last week (oops), but no, O found a good spot next to the deepest puddle on the street and set them all free, even the one he dubbed ‘the tiniest ever’, who really was amazingly small.

We ended up at the neighborhood plant store, where O got to feel the water in all the fountains (and Willow only got to wish she could) and then to visit his favorite stone kitty cat. This is something he dearly loves to do. Wherever we go, if there is some inanimate creature, Owen will take a fancy to it and want to carry it all around, caring for it as if it were alive. (Remember the lame Halloween duck??) It’s an endearing quality, and it shows his more empathetic side, which I try to remember when he starts chasing the real cat around at home. Speaking of, we wound our way back home just in time, before crashing blood sugar and dire thirst made the walk unbearable.

This leisurely trek was just what we needed to restore everyone’s good spirits. I’m thankful that’s all it takes, sometimes.

1 Comment

  1. Papa said,

    June 22, 2007 at 8:44 am

    The duck rocks! Don’t you forget it!

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