This is what happened yesterday:
I put the boys in the stroller. The sky is clouding up. We run to the park to meet Micah, who has just arrived at 15th Street when we get there. “Keep moving. We’ve got to catch the guy in the red hat.” He takes the stroller and we’re off. The guy in the red hat is gaining ground. Micah thinks we can catch him; he caught him on the way to the park already but then slowed down to wait for me. We can’t see the red hat around the bend and there’s a fork in the road. Do we go up Center Drive and forget about the hat? Or chase him all the way around the park? I don’t think I can catch him, but Micah is determined. We part ways. I take the stroller up Center Drive, Micah takes off after the red hat — or we think he does. Thunder rumbles.
I take the boys through Center Drive and up the hill. “Thunder! I see Thunder!” Manchild 1 says when lightning flashes on the horizon. A drop falls behind my glasses and straight into my eye. More lightning. “Thunder!” Manchild 1 says. “We hear thunder, we see lightning,” I try to explain as we crest the hill. We get out of the park, cross the street, and drop some things off at the library. Micah has run the extra mile in approximately 4 minutes and is catches up to us. The red hat was nowhere to be seen. Did he run faster than Micah? Doubtful. He must have turned off when we couldn’t see him. Darn.
The rain is falling in earnest now. My glasses are quickly becoming useless. Quick stop at the bank. Longer stop at the fruit stand. We barely squeeze the stroller through the aisles so the boys are out of the rain. Peaches, carrots, kale — and we’re off again. Running as fast as we can through the rain. Not even running to run anymore, just running to get out of the rain. Dodging umbrellas, veering around walkers, hoping we don’t slip. I take my glasses off and can see better. Someone sees us and says, “Hey! Taxi! Can I get a ride?” Someone steps into the intersection and waves us safely through. Someone cheers us on. Someone almost steps in front of us as they step off the bus. We reach our building. A neighbor helps Micah lift the stroller up the stairs and out of the rain while I hold the doors. We laugh as the water drips down our noses.