Why not indeed?

Spring rain is my favourite kind of weather.  Warm air, cool rain and everything bright green around you.  Today on the way home from work it was raining that gentle spring rain I love so much and the side of the road was too green to resist.  So I pulled over, ripped my shoes off, got out of the car and stood beside my car, arms wide and face to the sky.  After a moment I came back to myself and realised the looks on the faces of the people passing by.  Concern, disgust, dismissal.

Is she crazy?

Yes.  It would be far more sensible to drive my car with the windows up, the air-conditioning blasting away, worrying about what's for dinner and stressing over the trials of the day I'm sure.  After five minutes of indulgence I reluctantly got back in the car and drove on to the childcare centre to pick James up.

As I brought him outside his body tensed and he curled into me.

"Oh no!" he cried, "Raining!  All wet!"
"Yes, all wet, but it's okay," I told him.

I stopped to look down into his precious little face, screwed up with dismay and it hit me then what all the rushing in my life will one day cost my children.  All too soon my son will be one of those people rushing home in a Conformodore, the beautiful Spring rain not a life-giving pleasure to be enjoyed but a nuisance to be cursed.  I sat him down right there on the steps of the centre and ripped his shoes and socks off, stuffing them into my pockets.

"Yes, it's raining," I told him, "Which means we can wear no shoes and splash.  You have no idea how good that will feel on your feet.  Come on, let's do it."

One dubious look was all I got and then I seized his hand and we ran out into the rain, heading straight for the gutter where the water was rushing, both of us giggling.  We kicked the leaves, we jumped and then we just stood there and let the water run over our toes.  As we played a father with three small children who had parked behind me came out, hurrying his brood until they saw us and collectively stopped to stare.  I froze, not sure what to say while he looked at me blankly and James continued to squeal and splash.  Then his oldest curled her hand into his and tugged.

"Can we do that Daddy?" she asked softly and my eyes met his.  For a long moment we just looked at each other and then I smiled and shrugged.
"Why not?"
"Why not indeed," he said slowly and then they too were pulling their shoes and socks off and before long we were all splashing and laughing.  I left five minutes later when a pair of teenagers walking home from the bus joined in.  By the time we got home I'd forgotten anything else that happened to me today.

Now turn the screen off.  Put down whatever you're doing.  Go dance in the rain.