Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Things You Can Count On: Rainy Summer Version

Rainy Summer Version, 1-5: Chin Up, Babe!
1) Sometimes, you welcome rainy days, but this summer, your welcome mat is wearing thin. And mildewing.
2) You go to arcades with your kids and to joints crowded with other kids. You are nice.
3) You buy art project stuff. You cram it into the Art Cabinet. You always hope for the best.
3) You go to a sad movie about a daughter dying on rainy afternoon with your own daughter.
3) You will both weep. 
4) You will be among 60 other weepers, all chicks, all gluttons for punishment.

Rainy Summer Version, 1-7: CRASH!
1) On one of the few nice weekends, an accident will occur.
2) The fact that it has occurred will not surprise you: everyone is out because the sun is and they are all um "happy."
3) The nature of the accident will shock you, scare you, make you feel badly and better about yourself all at the same time. Which will not make you proud.
4) The headline of a local paper will slur - "Drunk Crashes Boat into Trees"
5) The photo will show a 24-foot outboard lodged in the bushes of a waterfront home, having gone airborne after both driver and passenger were thrown. 
6) Driver will be of your same fairer sex and not much older than you.
7) You will be grateful no one was killed. You will be grateful you don't know the driver much better than you do. Because, um? Awkward.

Rainy Summer Version, 1-8: Little Hungover People
1) Your children will lay about the house in states of various un-dress.
2) You will ask them to put real clothes on, ask again, then command, then beg. You will give up: we aren't really going anywhere anyway.
3) You will say, with all your best Huck Finn upbeat, "anyone want to help me fold laundry?"
4) You will wonder if when stuck indoors little kids might wither. 
5) When you tell a child that her pouty 'tude is getting old, she will say "and so are you."
6) Sent to her room, you will secretly hope she might wilt a little.
7) She won't. She bounces back every time.
8) You? Not so much.

Rainy Summer Version, 1-6: Her Party
1) You will consider science and junk science and meteorology and astrology and Mayan gods of weather and decide none of that, none of them is to blame. It just sucks is all.
2) Still, you will check radar and satellite maps while holding your breath.
3) You will NOT RESCHEDULE your daughter's kickball birthday party AGAIN.
4) You will wonder if eight year olds like Charades, because kickball and lightning is only fun for drunk boaters. 
5) You will wonder: do eight year olds like to fold laundry? Mop floors? Sort drawers? What if you throw in cupcakes and a goody bag?
6) Could be a win-win, you think.

Rainy Summer Version, 1-4: (Making a) Deal With It
1) When it stops raining and the sun at last comes out, will you remember to go outside and welcome it and love it and play in it and weed in it and swim in it and enjoy it and not complain about it IN ANY WAY at all?
2) Not even when your upper lip sweats (so dainty).
3) Not even when you get those creasy sweat marks in places where you shouldn't (so sexy).
4) You will make a pinky swear to the sun that you will, you will, you will remember.
5) You better remember.

10commentsBrilliant Person Wrote...

DKC said...

I sweat in several unladylike places the other morning while mowing the lawn. (Birthday present to the husband, aren't I romantic?) It was hot and humid and I think I only complained a couple of times in my head. But not out loud.

TwoBusy said...

1) I lovelovelove when you do these things.

2) Dude, I saw that boat accident story on the news the other day... and I'm pretty sure that qualifies as a legitimate, serious fuck-up. Wow.

3) "And so are you." Credit where credit is due: that's a pretty badass comeback.

4) I hate heat, I hate humidity, I hate pretty much everything to do with summer... and even I am getting kind of sick of this "65 and rainy" crap.

cIII said...

Firstly, I'm with Mr. Busy. I dig it when you do these.

Secondly, I would go the
Tom Sawyer route and offer to show them a Festered Toe if'n they help with the laundry. No festered toe, you say? No sweat. I just banged mine open today while putting up an Inflatable bouncey Castle. I'll wait for your call.

Thirdly, I loves me some Kickball. And Lightening. And I don't even own a boat.

Lastly...Did I tell you I love it when you do these (and all your other stuff)?

Well. I do.

Heather said...

We were glad for our rain. It has been dry.

You have describe my entire winter. Urrrr. Sweaters and baking get old fast.

Aimee said...

This post made me laugh, a lot. I just had to read portions to my Brother. We like your daughter's tude because we too are smart asses.

The Floydster said...

I'm pretty glad I'm childless when I read about 'tudes. At least when I was a teacher I could separate myself at the end of the day. I do plenty of put-downs on myself without the added benefit of having a mini-me around to help out. 'Course, the flip side is not having the hugs and sweet sleepy breath of a child sound asleep and looking so innocent and adorable . .. .

Samantha said...

"because kickball and lightning is only fun for drunk boaters." well said.

kudos to another HI-larious post! love it.

Leslie said...

When I read this I miss you.

Kristin @ Going Country said...

Yeah. The rain is old. The mildew is old. The muddy floors are old.

But my dogs don't mind going out when it's raining, so you definitely got it worse than me.

Carolyn...Online said...

You know what you need to do? You need to leave town! Do it! Go to Chicago!