I'm not parking in the garage because the kitten (which is fully grown and almost a year old) is in heat. We have a vet appointment for Wednesday to get her spayed. She is in solitary confinement, in the garage, until then. It's kind of nice to have the garage so clean and open without my big ole Suburban taking up space.
Last week, began the parking-in-the-driveway phase of our get-the-cat-fixed plan. We woke up to a heavy frost early one morning. Checking the forecast is not one of my priorities, but I should reconsider this as it would probably make my life easier in the long run. I didn't leave time to defrost the windshield, driver's side window, or passenger side window, so we traveled down the driveway and out onto the highway with the windows rolled down for increased visibility. It was chilly. I was already missing my garage parking.
Then today, as we are ready to head out to the car for our morning commute, it starts to rain. It was a heavy sprinkle, enough to make noise that you notice while still inside the comfort of the kitchen. I had the youngest, with his jacket snapped up to the neck, in my arms to be carried to the car. Why didn't I park in the garage? Oh, I wish I had now! What would have taken a couple of extra minutes last night, will now cost me dry clothes and hair. It couldn't be raining harder now.
Off we go!! Run!! My husband calls from behind me, "Don't you want an umbrella?!?"
The cold wet is sliding down my back and dripping in my face as I put the little one in his car seat. Snap the left side of the 5 point harness, now the right. Please don't squirm, little man, I think, He is asking for wagons and trucks and something I can't decipher at the moment while I'm pelted from all directions with freezing drops of water. "Ok, bud, I'm going to get my bag and coffee. I'll be right back," I say to the little. I would rather just stay here and call the boys via my husband. An intercom would be nice. "And bring my stuff with you," I would say. But that is not my world. As I make a run for it back to the house, I am praying that I don't wipe out on the slick, wet concrete.
Back inside, I huff and whine and shake a bit like a dog because the loose pieces of hair that surround my face are dripping with rain. "Do you want an umbrella?" Todd asks as he takes in my fully clothed shower look.
"No, I can't handle an umbrella with all the other stuff I am trying to get out to the car," I respond with raised eyebrows. He has to see that my wet hair and dampened shirt would only be worse if I was trying to juggle an umbrella (which is awkward in most situations where two hands are available) with a kid and/or my school bag and/or purse. I don't need that extra drama.
I prod the middle boys to get out to the car. They both have umbrellas. I smile. It's raining and it's Monday. It's going to be a good day.