After the joke, rain.

The Tale of Going to Theodore & Waldorf’s and Getting Ice Cream. 

(In hindsight, we could not have planned it better if our goal was to get caught in the rain and drenched. That wasn’t our goal though…)

We get the ice cream and we wander. We sit on benches and finish our ice cream and look out at the swans. A corgi comes along and smiles at us, then it swims in the water and that’s cute. There are rain clouds, far away. Maybe not so far away. Maybe fifteen or twenty minutes away. We begin walking back toward buildings, shelter, awnings, the car, but casually.


We pass a photographer, a dad holding a bubble gun, three small children, and a mom getting them to pose.  A few small raindrops. We pick up the pace a bit, dodging goslings & their parents & their poop. More rain, not sprinkles, rain.


Our hair is plastered to our faces, our eyes are flooded, we are drenched. And hysterical. Val starts laughing so hard for some reason, maybe it’s seeing how beautiful I am as I drown.

Puddles, gutters, people peering out of restaurants looking dry and superior. And still, RAIN everywhere!

The car, finally. We dive in. On the drive home, the clouds scoot and the sun comes back out and it’s a nice day and the question is, “Why are those crazy people soaking wet?” 


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