Ya! I’m allowed to watch Dr. Who today.
I made a deal with myself that I’m only allowed to watch an episode of Dr. Who on days I work out. This is to keep me from being a lazy butt — at least until the episodes wear out. Must bribe myself with something else when that happens.
My son and I went to the pool together this afternoon. He swam a 50 with me, for which I am proud of him. I recall when I was learning to swim. 50 yards was kinda tough.
When we were walking home from the pool, the heavens opened. My goodness. Rain just poured from the sky. My son wasn’t too keen, wanting to get under shelter. I asked him if they’d kicked him out of the Kid Club or something. He asked why.
So I explained that when I was a child, my brother and I would beg to be allowed to go outside and play in the rain in the summertime. We couldn’t often. You don’t get a lot of rain in the summer in Central Virginia1, and when it did rain, it was usually a thunderstorm. No playing outside allowed.
But oh when it wasn’t a thunderstorm, how wonderful it was to play outside in the warm rain, sloshing along pavement barefoot, or skidding across soggy grass. (Or plugging up a drainpipe to fill a ditch to make a natural wading pool until one of our fathers caught us at it!)
It really felt nice to get drenched, kick off my sandals and walk home barefoot — glowing warm from a workout and soaked to the skin.
1Fredericksburg was not Northern Virginia when I was growing up for all that it’s a suburb of Washington, DC now