raining disappointment.

I noticed it mumbling quietly in the distance almost immediately. The sun shining bright, skies as blue as our bathing suits, children splashing violently in the baby pool as they swam back and forth swiping toys from those weaker and unsuspecting. Sure, I was whole heartedly enjoying time together with a great friend, and it would be hard to disappoint the little ones by going home early. Considering their refusal to ever leave a fun place regardless of hours spent, naps missed, or multiple and overly generous “5 more minutes” extensions, and relative lack of understanding of the concept of time, they were not my concern nor was I. It came again, still muffled, but a bit more coherent. I glanced at him and saw it. Multiple swear words swarmed the interior of his mind, nostrils flared, sighs frustratingly exhaled, feet discretely stomped the pavement surrounding the baby pool, his outdoor hockey game being dangled in front of him threatening to be viciously gobbled up by the thunder. “I think its just the heat?” I tried to comfort with words and smiles, but it was of no avail, only silent hoping and promise of boundless permission to reschedule appreciated. I offered both, but, if I’ve learned anything after 5 blissful years, its that even the tiniest teensiest threat of rain is the worse than the apocalypse on a hockey night.  

Somewhere mid chicken and vegetables the once and for all came pouring through the sky and most likely threw our roof too. In the abbreviated silent but glaring words of my husband, F. 

He held each trembling child with every bolt and thunderous bang striking his heart much harder than the sky or ground. The line up, the early arrival home from work, the pre game carbs, the extra effort to mop the floor in gratitude and in hopes of an easier exit, the hopefully imagination of skates, sticks, pucks, and lay outs…gone, definitely for a night that will feel like an eternity for my always eager, whole hearted-amateur back yard- celebrity look a like- roller hockey star. 

Rain: ruining fun, naive sense of control, and roller hockey in particular, since always. 


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