Rain

"Mommy!" exclaims Gabriel.

"Yes?" I say.

"It's raining and WE DON'T CARE!"

Water drips down the tip of his nose and collects in his curls.

He stands on our back deck, waving his arms and legs, as sheets of rain fall from the sky. Thunder roars.

I stand inside.

The other day, we had a play date at the San Francisco Zoo. As we crossed the Bay Bridge, the sunny sky turned into grey, and a light drizzle fell. My cellphone rang.

The play date had been moved to someone's house instead of the zoo, since it was raining.

"Don't worry," I told Gabriel. "We'll go to the zoo later today. It's raining. Some people care if it rains, but we don't care!"

He looks like he's about to say something, but just nods his head.

We politely exit from the play date just an hour before the zoo closes. It is still drizzling.

"Gabriel," I say.

"What Mommy?"

"Let's go to the zoo really quick!"

It is late in the day so we get in free. Most of the animals have already been put away in cages and buildings. But we can peek inside the tall giraffe house and watch giraffes up close, eating leaves from a high loft. And the penguins are still out in their pond, diving under cool water. A popcorn booth is nearly closed, but we get a small bag before the doors shut. A regal peacock begins to follow us in a slow waddle, then runs after us. We realize it is after our popcorn, so we sprinkle a few pieces behind us, before we leave, that rainy evening.