judifilksign (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
judifilksign) wrote2011-06-21 07:28 pm
judifilksign) wrote2011-06-21 07:28 pm
19 "The Mail Is Here!"
The Midwest storms came through at suppertime. Right after, there looked to be a temporary lull in the rain, so I convinced a dubious Sparkle to put on her shoes and helmet and ride on the wet roads.
The plan worked well until we were well on the bike trail, and then it started raining pretty steadily. I hadn't realized that "temporary lull" would be quite so temporary.
"Oh, no!" cried Sparkle. "Now my hair will get all wet. I'll be HIDeous!"
"My helmet is getting wet. My shirt is getting wet. My skirt is getting wet. My bike is getting wet. My babies are getting wet. UGH! I am getting wet and I do not like it. Do you hear me momma? I do not like getting wet. We do not ride bikes in the rain, because we get wet. Can you feel us getting wet, mommy? Do you realize what this means? Do you?"
"Yes, dear," I respond, turning the bike around.
"And what does it mean?" demanded Sparkle.
"It means it is raining, and mommy was silly, and we're turning around to ride home," I said.
"NO! I am not riding home. We do not ride bikes in the rain!" exclaimed Sparkle, and hopped off the bike.
"Get back on, it will be faster to ride home than walk home," I said.
"NO! We do not ride bikes in the rain! We get all wet! And it's scary!" On cue, thunder rumbles overhead.
"You are so getting on this bike right now," I said in Mommy-no-nonsense, I-have-no-patience-when-I'm-wet voice. I counted backward from three, and she was back on the bike, and I started off, with Sparkle continuing a litany of complaints.
"My nose is wet, and my hair is wet, and now I'm COLD and riding a bike is too windy. We'll never get home now. AAAAH! You're not listening!"
"We're coming to the trail turnoff, sweetie, so pedal, pedal up the hill!"
"AAAAAHHHH! There's mud! MUD! The bike tire is dirty! EW!" I was glad the tires had plenty of tread, because I was pedaling alone up that wet slope.
My brakes, which squeal terribly, did not squeal going down the wet slope against wet tires. Go figure.
As I pulled into my drive, my neighbor called out of her window: "The mail is here!" I looked at her, and she continued, "Neither rain nor sleet will keep you from your appointed rounds, ha! Ha!"
The plan worked well until we were well on the bike trail, and then it started raining pretty steadily. I hadn't realized that "temporary lull" would be quite so temporary.
"Oh, no!" cried Sparkle. "Now my hair will get all wet. I'll be HIDeous!"
"My helmet is getting wet. My shirt is getting wet. My skirt is getting wet. My bike is getting wet. My babies are getting wet. UGH! I am getting wet and I do not like it. Do you hear me momma? I do not like getting wet. We do not ride bikes in the rain, because we get wet. Can you feel us getting wet, mommy? Do you realize what this means? Do you?"
"Yes, dear," I respond, turning the bike around.
"And what does it mean?" demanded Sparkle.
"It means it is raining, and mommy was silly, and we're turning around to ride home," I said.
"NO! I am not riding home. We do not ride bikes in the rain!" exclaimed Sparkle, and hopped off the bike.
"Get back on, it will be faster to ride home than walk home," I said.
"NO! We do not ride bikes in the rain! We get all wet! And it's scary!" On cue, thunder rumbles overhead.
"You are so getting on this bike right now," I said in Mommy-no-nonsense, I-have-no-patience-when-I'm-wet voice. I counted backward from three, and she was back on the bike, and I started off, with Sparkle continuing a litany of complaints.
"My nose is wet, and my hair is wet, and now I'm COLD and riding a bike is too windy. We'll never get home now. AAAAH! You're not listening!"
"We're coming to the trail turnoff, sweetie, so pedal, pedal up the hill!"
"AAAAAHHHH! There's mud! MUD! The bike tire is dirty! EW!" I was glad the tires had plenty of tread, because I was pedaling alone up that wet slope.
My brakes, which squeal terribly, did not squeal going down the wet slope against wet tires. Go figure.
As I pulled into my drive, my neighbor called out of her window: "The mail is here!" I looked at her, and she continued, "Neither rain nor sleet will keep you from your appointed rounds, ha! Ha!"
I am all wet. But, I have swum today, and I have ridden today. My record stands.