Rain is like cod liver oil.
It's good for you but it sure isn't fun taking it.
I guess we need the rain.
But it was gloomy around here today.
Sometime mid-afternoon we had to leave for the Man's company family picnic. He was looking forward to it. I was ambivalent.
Big, black clouds rolled in about an hour before we left. Thunder rumbled, lightning flashed, and then came the rain. All the way to the picnic.
Rain, rain, rain.
Oh, and look, there's a flash flood just like the weather channel said there would be. Time to get to higher ground, Man. The weather man said so.
I've never seen a flash flood before, and judging from the huge miscalculation the driver across from us made, trying to make a left turn in the middle of the flood and CROSSING IN FRONT OF US WHILE WE HAD A GREEN LIGHT to do so, I don't think she'd ever seen a flash flood either. Or she wouldn't have attempted that left turn, been forced to STOP OR HIT US, and then semi-floated further into the intersection.
Can you tell how agitated I was from all those capital letters?
So we're at this picnic and there are lots of little kids around. Lots.
I think the median age of the kids was four years old. K came with us - she was the oldest at eighteen. Then there was a sixteen year old, an eleven year old, and a million kids under the age of 6.
The host of the party bought lots of toys for all these little ones. I couldn't get K to play with the bubbles. Or the hula hoop.
All the kids were preoccupied with some sort of spring loaded plastic toy that looked kind of like an ice cream cone and had a small ball in it. You push the button, the ball shoots out of the cone, and then you try to catch it.
What do you think kids are going to do with a toy that shoots a projectile?
Yup, they started shooting people.
A ball hit my leg while I was eating my hamburger. It didn't hurt, just startled me. What hurt was what the little twerp said as he came over to get his ball. He turns to look at his brother behind him and says, "Oh-ho, I hit the old lady."
I choked on my hamburger, proving his point. I am old. I can't even chew a hamburger.
K started laughing, and it's a good thing that little twerp ske-daddled out of there.
It was no consolation but the Man assured me that to a six year old, anyone over the age of twelve is old.
Rain, rain, go away.
And take all those little twerps with you.
Jack is like a six year old.
In and out, all day long.
These are the dog days of summer.