I watched the forecast, I watched the clouds, and I performed on of the greatest sacrifices a mother could do: I skipped my workout. Yes, yesterday was an official day of rest. I hung out with the boys. The only thing we had to do was go to the library; the threat of library fines and the fear that all those years of preaching the importance of being on time would be forgotten impelled me to get there.
During the afternoon downpour, the boys and I were safely under shelter at our local library. The only problem was so was the wagon, and I don’t mean car. The stubborn mom in me, the one who refuses to drive to the library because it is only a ten minute walk, arrived there yesterday afternoon with two boys and a wagon in tow (hoping the youngest would fall asleep on the way home). While the rain came down, the announcer reminded us that the library was closing in 15 minutes; how would we get home?
The oldest thought that we should just find a corner in the rec. centre and read our books until the rain passed. There was no adventure in that at all.
We then considered leaving the boys by the door of the rec. centre while I ran home to get the car. How fast can you really run, Mommy? Not fast enough.
“I can run home, Mom,” was his second suggestion. Great, I thought. So he gets home soaking wet and waits alone until we get home. He then added, “I can get 2 umbrellas and come back.”
And, double his chances of being grabbed, I thought. No.
Every trip to the library has its own story and this one was quickly evolving. I wasn’t really worried about getting home – we’d just be wet. But getting home with wet library books would be an issue. Can you tell your child they can’t take home books to read?
At 5:00 sharp, we were evicted. But, while there was no mercy from the librarians on this Friday afternoon, there was from above. The rain suddenly lightened so we decided to make our move. The youngest jumped into the wagon and tried to sleep but couldn’t as the clouds were spitting at him. We walked quickly – almost fast enough to qualify us as power-walkers – hoping to beat the rain before it plumetted again. Secretly, though, I hoped our tale would end with the skies opening and the boys running home in giggles.
I’m not sure what happened but the youngest suddenly didn’t want to sit and be pulled anymore; he wanted to walk with his brother. Before long, the two were running and their laughing started as they left me behind pulling our bag of library books in the wagon. They ran the rest of the way home, giggling every step because they beat me and the heavy rain.
Children laughing and running in the rain – one of life’s little treasures.