Rain Yourself Out Before Monday

A small spider raced across the linoleum during breakfast. Crackers watched the spider. I watched Crackers watch the spider. She lazily pawed it a couple of times, then quickly became bored.

“Crackers, you are no good at spider patrol. … If I have to do it for you, you’re out of a job.”

“What? You mean you’d throw her out in the cold?” Puck giggled over his oatmeal.

I didn’t though. I have more important things to chase down than garden spiders before 7AM anyway.

Besides, it was that perfect rain-drenched thunder-cracked morning. Dark blue and green, dripping trees. El Oso and Puck left for school between downpours.

Mid-day the sun crawled through, leaving the pavement jungle steaming, dripping jewels from branches. An interlude to the next batch.

I picked up Puck with plenty of room to spare before the next deluge arrived. I could see it in my rearview mirrors the whole way out – dark blue-violet rolling in from the west.

Apparently Puck had moved on from the inconsolable opinion of Mr. V losing his hair, and didn’t even mention the matter.
Just before we got home, rain hit hard.

After dinner and a 1934 moderately racist Shirley Temple film, the cold front had arrived. Puck ran around in the street with Anna, still in t-shirts, Anna blowing rounds of colored bubbles with a bubble wand, which left purple spots on the back of Puck’s Lego t-shirt.

Before 7:30, I tucked Puck in for the night, cozy and warm.

He finished off his prayers with a, “And PLEASE let me be a Christian when I grow up.”

We talked.

Thunder and rain continued to rumble into the night.