| Current mood: |  nostalgic |
| Current music: | vienna teng : eric's song |
childhood
I loved playing in the rain when I was younger. With the first warm summer drops I was out the door in my bathing suit and an old tee-shirt of my brother's. I would join the other neighborhood kids on the street, all of us standing at the end of our driveways, the cement warming our little feet as the rain slowly plastered our hair to our heads. We would stand grinning madly at each other, gap-toothed, brace-faced, beaming with glee. Then, shrieking with delight, we'd plop down in the gutter, make dams with small butts and giggle wildly as the water soaked our little bathing suits, the bitty river breaking against our backs and parting to flow around our legs.
Sick of soaking on our own we'd jump up, leaves and dirt clinging to us, twigs tangled in our hair we'd run off to turn cartwheels on the black, bubbly tar of the streets, heedless of our mother's warnings as they stood, cross-armed in the dry safety of doorways. We would run, screaming, up and down the neighborhood, calling excitedly to each other with the discovery of a lake at one of the intersections that just begged to be splashed in. We'd bang on the doors of the children unlucky enough to be imprisoned -- by cruel, heartless parents, naturally -- inside on such a glorious day.
Eventually the rain would stop or the light would fade and one by one the voices of our parents could be heard calling us in from our fun. We'd drag our feet back up to our houses, whine at mothers waiting to wrap us in plush, dry towels. It wasn't fair! Quickly, we were ushered upstairs to strip out of the claustrophobic cling of soaked clothing and deposited into steaming bathtubs. Being a kid was tough back then, as you can see.
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