Our summer precipitation evaporated before autumn, so a steady rain was just what the newer trees and plants in our yard needed on Tuesday morning, but Jet would have preferred her morning walk.
She picked out books to read while we waited for a dry spell. “Read Peter Pan!” she directed, “It’s my Faaa-Vor-ite!”
“It’s your favorite?” I didn’t realize she had that word yet.
As I opened the book, she pressed herself closer, stabbing my upper arm with her very pointed little elbow. She never seems to realize that she is responsible for the pained noises and expressions her Grandma makes on these occasions. “Watch that elbow!” I reminded her, “It hurts Grandma when you do that.”
“I sharp!” she agrees. It seems she does remember!
By afternoon, the rain had dwindled to a light but steady sprinkle.
“Would you like to take a walk in the rain?” I asked.
“Yes! Put on shoes! Get Marcy’s leash!”
“Marcy can’t go with us today,” I reminded her. “She has a sore leg and has to rest. Just let Grandma go potty and then we’ll go.”
In my haste, I failed to latch the bathroom gate. In her excitement, Jet walked into the bathroom too.
“Hi!” she said, standing solemnly before me. “I’m in here!”
“I see that. Should you be on the other side of the gate?”
“Grandma can’t hold me while she’s on the toilet,” she announced. “It’s yucky.”
“I know. Lucky for you I’m ready now.”
I retrieved my smallest purse-sized umbrella and a golf umbrella (just in case she couldn’t get the hang of holding her own) and we stepped out onto the porch.
“Jet will get all wet!” she protested.
“No, look. I’ll show you.” I picked her up under the golf umbrella and we stepped into the rain.
“Can you hear it?” I asked her. “Can you hear the rain falling on the umbrella?” She looked up in wonder.
“Yes! I can hear it!”
“Are you wet?”
“No, Jet is dry!”
I opened her umbrella and showed her how to hold it. She trotted down the driveway. “Let’s GO Grandma!”