When I was a kid, I loved a quiet, rainy day. I could smell the wet, fresh scent of the rain before it even started and hear it moving through the pine trees as it crept towards the house. And when it arrived, it would create a special aqua adventure just for me and my sisters. The ditches in front of our tiny Camp Street house would fill quickly with rushing water. This was the perfect scenario for racing sticks and leaves through the culvert. We would drop our racing-stick into the water and then sprint to the other side of the driveway to see whose came out in the lead. It was also amusing to see what would drift by in the mini river. Trash and debris that had laid dormant in the dirt was suddenly a vessel on an exciting ride down a raging stream. Standing under the sheltering canopy of the large oak trees, you could almost escape all the rain drops as you watched the trash parade. After the shower passed, my sisters and I would ride our bikes through the puddles and return home with our shirts resembling a painters drop cloth. Mom was so great to let us do this. I can't imagine the messes we made when we finally came inside, dripping and smelling like wet dogs. To this day I love the rain because of these great memories. I still am tempted to run out and get soaking wet sometimes. But instead of becoming the talk of the neighborhood, I sent my child out in it this week.

It was Dean's first experience playing in the rain. The water poured off of our roof in a perfect waterfall. Dean, wearing only a diaper (which was swelling with each rain drop!), would fill his buckets from the waterfall and dump them on the sidewalk. Then he noticed the mud puddle in the front yard. Ankle deep dirty water, jackpot! He laughed and giggled and squealed through chattering teeth until the drops slowed, the waterfall ceased and the puddle disappeared. The next day was bright and beautiful and he begged to go out again. He grabbed his blue bucket and stood under the invisible waterfall. "ON" he squealed and pointed towards the roof. "ON" he tried again looking from me to the empty bucket that he held in the air. He said "ON" once more, this time adding a fancy, excited jig. And so I awkwardly tried to explain that although I am an amazing mom, I can't turn on the rain. Ok, so I really didn't say the amazing mom part but what I did say must of made me sound like a bumbling fool because he kept looking a me with this confused expression on his face. Since the message wasn't received well by my curious 20 month old, we quickly found a new use for the blue bucket...rocks and mulch! And so my flower beds shudder in fear as we wait for God to turn the rain back on.