Today I played with my child in the rain.
We changed our clothes to old clothes, and our shoes to water shoes, and our mindsets, to prevent against too many corrections.
And we left the secure, dry world of roofs, closed doors, “Be careful!”
And we ran, and we splashed, and we let the rain come.
When you are outside in the rain on a warm, drizzly day
—When you Choose to be in the rain—
The mist feels pleasantly light, and each puddle is a find, and the joy is taken out
and easily passed around.
And when you are outside in a downpour
—When you Choose to be outside—
All you feel is wet Wet WET!
It’s running down your back, and squishing under your bare feet
(it feels better that way)
And slapping against your legs
And each individual drop makes no difference, but joins the throng
as it slams down, hard, on your head
It’s so loud that you shout to your child, your friend, to be heard
And now every step is a squish, splosh, run, jump, splash!
And every inch of you tingles, alive with the joy of being
carefree- Childhood is in your grasp once again…
…Until- “Can you get towels? Watch the mud, keep it on the mat—wet shoes stay by the door!
Try not to drip all over the floor—change quickly, it’s cold in here… Bedtime!”
Ahh, under the roof again—contained, restrained, responsible.
Rain Rain, go your way, but please come back another day—this old Mommy wants to play…