Let It Rain A Whole Lot More
27 September 2014
Enzo asked if the drought has been going on his whole life. We said no, but a long time. Then on Thursday morning it rained. I took Colin for a walk in the almost dark with soft rain that smelled and felt so good. He’s only about two and may never have been in real rain, but he didn’t pay much attention to it. He performed his doggie obligations. Later when I drove Enzo to school we were pulling out of the driveway and he said, “That’s my favorite sound.” I stopped the car, and we listened to the sound of raindrops on the metal roof. Later, watching the rain come down, hearing the swish of tires on wet pavement, “I’m about to jump out of my boots.”
“So are the firefighters.”
Then last night (Friday night) I woke up and heard rain on the roof and on the leaves on the big pomelo tree in the backyard. And this morning the quiet Saturday street, the sky clearing, the sun coming up and the world all bright.
“I’m surprised you can still lift me up. Every day I’m getting bigger and heavier, and you’re getting older.”
“What do you think I’m better at—knitting or shooting off an underwater spear gun and killing a giant fish?”
Enzo used to call us mama-Kate and Mama-Teresa. Now it’s mom or Kate or Teresa. And sometimes, on important occasions, he addresses me like this: “Kate Johnston. What are you going to be for Halloween?”
Me: “How about a glamorous lady?”
Enzo: “How about a zombie butcher. With hideous rotting flesh. And bones and ribs inside. Fake.”
Enzo: “Fossil Wars are even worse than World Wars. Billions died. I’m seeing guns, knives, bullets.”
Enzo announced that when he’s a grownup he’ll have a boat.
Teresa: “How big?”
Enzo: “That depends on how rich I am. And how big my ego is. Can I have my ego on a blimp? I’ll probably have a medium boat.”