Ok, so it’s no secret I’m not a fun of rainy days. Monday, eh I can take them or leave them. Rainy days, however, are my biggest downer for any day of the week.
I guess when I was a kid I didn’t mind rain as much. Jumping in puddles was kind of fun. I didn’t care if my hair got frizzy; because with those goofy bangs my mother insisted on I already hated my hair.
Mud was fun for all sorts of things. I could make mud pies. I could mold it into bowls and critters. And it was so much fun to squish it through your toes in the summertime.
When it was hot you could go out and play in the rain and it was better than a pool or a hose because the rain was just the right amount of cold.
And then I grew up…
I no longer hate my hair and rain with its accompanying humidity makes it frizzy, which makes me hate my hair.
Mud holds no fascination anymore. Basically I look at mud as something I have to clean up. And I’ve cleaned up my lifetime quota of projectile vomit, diaper contents, various multi colored spills, and of course, mud.
Although squishy mud once held my fascination, a squishy yard is just annoying and gets mud all over my expensive shoes. (See clean up above)
I may not be the best cook in the world but I think my apple pies would win over mud pies any day of the week.
So there you have it, my many reasons for disliking the rain. The heck with April showers, when it’s been raining here so many days that I can’t even count them.
I don’t understand since I don’t live in Seattle or London, but lately Virginia has become one with them. The other day I pulled up precipitation map, and I noticed that right smack in the middle of my little slice of Virginia, was a blue spot for lots of rain. So I’m wondering when I’ll see the sun. Yes, the sun, better known as a dermatologist’s nightmare.
