Don’t Rain on My Parade


September 11, 2007 by Marj Hatzell

I’m glad it’s raining. Honest.  I mean, we need it BADLY.  The ground is so dry that the baby grass has moved to Mars, it is wetter there.  When Darling channels Forrest Gump mows the lawn, the dust cloud that emits is reminiscent of the Great Dust Bowl of the 1930s.  In other words, Can Has Rain Plz?

Now, I love me a rain storm. There is something about the extreme humidity and dampness that makes me wanna curl up with a cup of tea, lounge on the couch with my favorite fuzzy blanket and watch reruns of Hogan’s Heroes or M*A*S*H*. ‘Cept this rainstorm, albeit needed, is more like sitting in a Sauna. On the Equator. It’s that humid and warm.  Grrrroooooossss.  I don’t know why I even bothered straightening my hair today.  Actually, I do know why. I have to go out in public.  If people are gonna see me, I’m gonna straighten my hair. Or pull it back in ponytails, in which case my sisters are gonna call WHAT NOT TO WEAR (which I wouldn’t mind being on, by the way. I could do some damage in H&M with $5,000) and sic Stacy and Clinton on my ample posterior.

Oh yeah…rain…

So, I am happy it is raining. It means indoor recess, though. Every teacher across the state is groaning at the thought of it.  It also means that when the kids get off the bus today, I’d better be ready with a plethora of snacks and arts and crafts.  We are going to paint, sculpt and build our hearts out for two hours. The house will get trashed but no worries, mate!  I have NOTHING scheduled for tomorrow, save a trip to the gym. The first time in three weeks, since Bugaboo has been home and won’t go to babysitting.  Plenty of time for me to clean up.  Or procrastinate, one of the two.

And the parade?  Apparently I attract a following around these parts.  If I move more than four feet, Cujo, the attack-dog-I’m-babysitting follows me.  Up the stairs, down the stairs, to the toilet, to the shower, to the laundry, etc, etc.  If Cujo is following you bet Shadow is following.  Shadow.  Always follows, get it?  Well, if the dogs are following, then Bugaboo?  Yup, right behind me.  The whirling dervish is swirling right behind me, doing his best tornado impersonation.  Picture it:  Me, struggling up the stairs with a laundry basket (or two, as I am known to do), little dog between my feet, Big Dog attempting to push by me to be first (because she’s a Border Collie and they are control freaks like that), Bugaboo bringing up the rear while singing or shrieking.  It’s quite a spectacle.  I’m thinking of filming it.  Even when I take the dogs out it is like that, one dog behind the other, following me around the yard while Bugaboo lags behind.  I purposely make zigs and zags around the yard to see if they keep following and of course they do.  I’m going to hire a marching band to walk behind me and see if we get people sitting on the curb clapping.

One thought on “Don’t Rain on My Parade

  1. pkzcass says:

    LOL! Great post!

    So funny that you should mention What Not to Wear. This is the thought process I had this morning:

    “Hmm, I’m wearing that flowered shirt that Janet (my neighbor) likes. She likes floral shirts, even though they look like men’s Hawaiian shirts and look awful on her and are really out of style. I should call What Not to Wear on her. I mean, really, just because you don’t have a full-time job doesn’t mean that you can’t update your clothes once in awhile. I mean, Marj always looks nice when I see her, especially when she wore that linen outfit to Nancy’s farewell dinner.”

    I KID YOU NOT!!! Yes, this went through my head this morning. Kizmet I tells ya.

    Oh, and about your post yesterday, I too had to be bailed out of debt before marriage. Yup, dh is a tightwad and would do EXACTLY the same thing Darling does. But I agree with you too that we are comfortable and financially secure, so as long as I remind myself of that when he’s blasting me for spending money…

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