It’s been a steady rain all day. Large murky puddles dot the yard. The invitation is too much for F. who hops from one to the other on his way to the bus stop.
I love the rain in spring. A good April shower soaks the flowers and washes away the grim of winter. Today, it’s an inconvenience during my day of running errands and grocery shopping, of carrying bag after bag from the car with the constant drip, drip on my shoulders.
I stand beside the woman’s car with my umbrella open. She looks up, startled. In truth, I probably scare her, a stranger standing beside her car. Really, I want to say, I’m only a soggy-stay-at-home mom.
“I’ll walk you in so you don’t get wet,” I say and gesture to the umbrella.
“Aren’t you nice,” she says as she opens her car door, “but I’ve got a hood.” She indicates her jacket and smiles. I walk towards the door.
I brought this umbrella and by gosh, I’m going to use it, I think. I see a dad and his pre-school daughter walking towards their minivan. I rush over to them.
“Here,” I shelter his daughter from the rain, “wet, huh?” She looks at me uncertainly as her dad assures me that she’s fine. I hold the umbrella over his daughter until she gets into the car.
Satisfied that I’ve harassed enough people for one day, I head home.