We have mixed feelings about rain. Ella trends toward frustration and almost-anger about it. Luke just wants to play outside and recently answers my explanation that it's raining with, "Awe, man!" I'm fine with rain until we have days and days in a row of it and the worms are flooded out of their holes and squirming all over the pavement. Dave typically feels the same as Ella.
We are a family who needs sunlight and outside play (as does everyone), so I sometimes find myself reminding them all that it rains for a reason - because we need water to drink, and so do the deer and the birds and the plants. Things don't grow if they don't have water, just ask the plants on my front porch. Winter rain is less acceptable than summer rain because it's cold and gray and yuck. Summer rain is good for playing. A couple of times over the past summer, we were sequestered inside because it was too hot to play when along came a big, fat, sunshiney rain shower. Acting like they had never seen it rain before, Ella and Luke burst out of the house to dance and stomp in the downpour. I danced and stomped with them. There's just something happy about playing in the summer rain.
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