Raindrops Were Falling on My Head

The school year is coming to a close. In fact, my older son could probably tell you to the hour how much time is left. As usual, I have been reflecting on what we have learned this year and I say "we" because it seems that I learn as much as the boys do, especially when David is part of the equation.

When I left yesterday to pick David up from school, it looked like it might rain so I grabbed my raincoat. But, by the time David was dismissed, the thunderstorm warning had been issued, the wind had picked up and Andrew was at home moving every possession he has ever owned into the basement, convinced that the storm had already ripped the deck off of our house when, in fact, the wind had simply knocked over a piece of lattice that we had taken off in preparation for our deck replacement next week.

Needless to say, it was pouring. I pulled the hood of my raincoat over my head and decided to forgo the umbrella. When the rain is falling sideways, it doesn't help much anyway and I was watching other mothers struggle to keep them from inverting in the wind. I made a break for it. The teachers already had David ready to go, so I grabbed his hand, but he stopped under the small overhang to the side door of the school.

Apparently, David did not sense my urgency. He commented on the rain, and grinned at me with his silly grin. His stubborn baby teeth are refusing to make way for the permanent teeth moving in on top and so David's two front teeth have shifted out at an angle, making his smile somewhat reminiscent of one of his favorite cartoon characters, SpongeBob Squarepants. Or, to put it bluntly as my husband does, right now the kid could eat sweet corn through a picket fence. Hey, maybe that would make his teeth come out.

Anyway, David was standing there, grinning, but really was not too keen on stepping out into the rain. So, yes, I have learned my lesson. When grabbing a raincoat for myself, why not grab one for David, as well? Or maybe the next time I see the dark gray storm clouds rolling in like a freight train, perhaps I should not hesitate to run into the school to sign David out a few minutes early to avoid the storm as some of the other moms were doing. Or I might just consider letting him ride the bus home from school next year and then it would be someone else's problem.

Possibly the most interesting thing I learned is that David's strong aversion to wearing new coats apparently does not apply when there happens to be a weather warning. He had not made me aware of that exception previously—maybe it was listed in the small print. David was eyeing my Talbots raincoat, which fortunately is royal blue and white polka dots, reversible to solid red, therefore meeting David's coat wearing criteria. And, since it was conveniently big enough to cover David and his backpack, he slipped it on and was ready to run for the car.

Of course, we made it but David did remark on my wet hair as I buckled his seat belt. By the time I got home, my sandals were squishy and I looked like I had just stepped fully clothed out of the shower.

What is the moral of this story? The next time I try to put a new coat on David I am going to wait for inclement weather, throw him out the front door with the coat and refuse to let him back in until he is wearing it.

Just kidding.

Maybe.