Chance of Rain

My little girl took an umbrella with her everywhere we went today.  It was a lovely Upper Midwestern winter morning, sunny skies and a temperature around 30.  We sure got a lot of looks.  Some were kind amusement.  Some insinuated, "What kind of mother are you?"  Some exhibited sheer grumpiness mixed with alarm, but most of those were when she opened the umbrella indoors and near eyeballs. 

 

I do not know why she insisted on the umbrella. Many people we met asked me. I did not have a better answer than, "She is three." Truth be told, I think that reasoning applies to most things three-year-olds do. Yes, it was annoying, and yes, it made everything take longer.  And, yes, it was a little bit dangerous, at least as far as the grumpy others' eyeballs were concerned.

 

Yet, motherhood has taught me that little people are their own little people.  I can't see scolding and regimenting every little eccentricity out of their creative, little minds.  That doesn't mean I never say "No" or that I am not a fan of rules.  Even my three-year-old must wear underwear, cannot choke the dog, has to try her dinner, and is banned from coloring on the walls.  But, an open SpongeBob umbrella inside the grocery store on a sunny day?  Is it negatively impacting anyone's existence?  If it bugs you that much, can you not just look the other way?  I thought it was kind of a fun, quirky thing, until...

 

We walked out of the school after play rehearsal, umbrella up and ready for action, and-- IT WAS RAINING.  I am not joking.  The dark sky opened up, began pouring rain, and has not stopped.  The three-year-old said, right as rain, "Good thing I have my umbrella."

 

Now, I think she may be psychic and may soon be starring in her own series on TLC.