"want my hood up, mommy"
"are you going out into the rain?"
"yes. you come too."
"let me get my jacket, okay?"
i give adele to her daddy, and hand in hand we step out into the rain. one black hood. one small navy one.
we watch the waterfall in the storm drain. we walk along the path towards the pool. then he finds a small puddle, and the splashing begins. small splashes at first. then his excitement grows. he finds every puddle he can.
we look at the water rushing in the creek. he runs over the bridges. he looks up at the sky and spins; rain falls on his face, and he smiles.
then he looks at me - "lub you buddy"
"lub you buddy"
"i love you too"
"watch me go, mommy. run, run, watch me run, mommy"
"i'm watching, baby."
i watch my little guy find sticks. i watch him crouch down and splash with his hands. i watch his little hood move as he explores the wet world.
my jeans get heavier as the water falls harder and soaks them through. his navy blue jacket slowly turns an inky blue-black as the water falls. but he wants to play. he wants to stay, to explore and discover.
he walks through the water flowing to the storm drain, kicking his little legs to get as wet as possible. the lights on his shoes only work about every other step now, but he doesn't care.
he watches the water flow down driveways; he squishes his feet in the puddles in the grass. he cries when i tell him it's time to go inside.
i carry him to the porch and we strip him down to his diaper and wrap him in a beach towel. he sits with daddy and adele, now content with his time outside.
i feel better too. soaked to the bone, but better. it does the soul good to play in the rain.
i'm not sure why i ever stopped.