My Paradise

by Lisa Pereira

"Oh, Man! I hate the rain!" my eight-year-old brother said. He had planned on spending the weekend outdoors, playing and exploring. I could understand his disappointment. An eight-year-old boy would much rather be outdoors catching disgusting creatures, riding bikes, and playing ball. Mothers generally don't allow these adventures on stormy days. He knew he was out of luck.

I, on the other hand, felt content when I awoke to the sounds of "drip, drop, drip, drop" on my window pane. I looked out the sliding glass door and watched large drops of rain pour down the plastic Little Tikes slide on the back patio. Each drop appeared to be racing toward the bottom before the others. I loved watching the "drip races." My siblings and I used to bet on the drips. My mind was revisiting my childhood. The rain always does that to me. Nostalgia. My favorite emotion.

Feeling content, I put on my slippers, made a cup of hot chocolate, grabbed my book, and snuggled under a warm blanket. I was looking forward to a great day indoors. Guilt free, too.

Much to my brother's dismay, the weather remained stormy the entire weekend and throughout the following week. His sorrow was my happiness. I read three books, wrote in my journal, watched my favorite Doris Day film twice, and remained in my PJ's most of the day. I also baked cookies, ate them, and sipped hot chocolate with marshmallows. The rain brings out the homemaker in me.

For three days in a row, the evening brought fabulous lightning and thunder shows. Watching the sky light up from my living room window was better than fireworks on the fourth of July. The house rumbled and sent an adrenaline rush through my body. Roller coaster rides don't even compare to the ecstasy of rolling thunder.

I enjoyed snuggling on the couch with my toddler daughters, Jenny Beth and Juliana. We read books and watched Disney Sing-along videos. We turned on music and danced. I entertained them with finger paints, coloring books, and bubbles in the bath tub. Rainy days always make me feel like an excellent mom. My children get to do all the things that they don't normally do. Everything is a treat. Rain brings out the best in all three of us. I taught them about "drip races." They didn't understand; some day they will. In the afternoons, I lay down with them to take a cat nap. They napped for a few hours. The thunder lulled them to sleep.

During the weekend, Carlos (my husband) and I rented three new-release videos and watched them. Yard work had to wait for better weather; errands were put aside until after the rain. The girls and I had "Daddy" all to ourselves.

Carlos and I experience our more intimate times during rainy weather. There is no guilt. We both know that all other demands are on hold for the sun to shine. We can bask in the glory of indoor heating, rolling thunder, pouring rain, and cuddling. Staying home, ordering pizza delivery, baking, reading, making love, playing games, and napping are the normal activities waiting for beautiful rainy days.

Paulie, my little brother, doesn't understand the joy to be had in a rainy day. He disdainfully mopes until my mom gives in and takes him to my grandparents' house to play. He has the right to criticize my paradise. He anticipates the rainbow followed by sunny weather. I enjoy rainbows and sunshine, too. However, the rainfall exhilarates me. He is too young to understand that the rain brings the rainbow.

One day I will tell my brother that the day after the rain there is a greater abundance of creepy crawlers to entertain his eight-year-old mind. For now, I'll keep that secret. I am patiently awaiting the next drizzly day. Trips to the park, grocery shopping, and housework presently fill my sunny days. I can hardly wait to finish my book.

Return to English 122 syllabus
Return to English 122 main page
Questions? Brian McKinney (bmckinne@home.com)