Okay, that's a bold-faced lie. I love rainy days. For being someone who hates getting wet, and I'm using the word hate here--about getting wet, I surely do love rainy days. Maybe that's a little bit like Rita, who likes boats but not the ocean, huh? I wouldn't mind being like Rita. I mean, she was a really upbeat lady.
But the playland is a completely different can of worms, and I'm using the word worms here--about the playland. It's raining, right? So there were about three hundred kids running around in there. There were enough kids that they had a full-court basketball game going on, complete with spectators. There were approximately seventeen moms. Half of the moms were reading books. And if you know me at all, you know I was one of the reading books moms. So, despite the fact that I gave in to the cries of "Please take us to McDonald's please please please pleaseplease PLEASE!" I at least got some reading in, so go me, right?
Two days ago, I planted some wildflower seeds in my front flower bed. Now, I know what you're thinking--how can they be wild if you sow the seeds yourself? But let's pretend for a moment that that doesn't bother us, and talk rain. When I woke up to rain this morning (and the thunder clap I thought was the second coming) I was pleased that I wouldn't have to water the seeds today. Not that doing that is really a taxing job, but if you want to know why it bothers me, see paragraph one. When you water plants you could inadvertantly get wet like on your feet or hands. So, anyway, I went out to check on the seeds and the ground, get ready for this, is completely dry. I'm standing in the rain, checking my seeds, and they are completely dry. I know.