When it’s raining and you’re in an RV, it’s not great. The air conditioning only chills everything damp inside, your fingers stick to the keyboard, your hair turns into what I call a frizzbomb – unless you’re John, of course, and then your pate sweats – and you feel like a little kid trapped inside on a – you guessed it – rainy day.
But wait. There’s a little kid here who doesn’t seem to know it’s raining. He’s all of about four years old, and for the second day in a row, he’s on his two-wheeler with the twelve-inch tires. He’s been circling our RV on the little ring road for at least three hours. And he’s singing. It’s his own song, a kind of primeval cycler’s chant about goin’ fast, speedin’ along and catching the bad guys. And he has inserted grunts, tweets and war cries into his ode. A mini-Thor, he is unstoppable, not that anyone with half a heart would want to shut this little dynamo down.
Last night, he and his elder brother, aged 6 or so, spent an hour stomping in the mini-lake created next to our RV in their shorts and sandals. This morning, Mom sent them out with boots on.
On the other side of us, a couple of spots away (fortunately), two families with a total of 9 children are toughing out the rain too. The Dads have organized Dad entertainment for the kids, like stacking wood in the back of the truck and putting bikes under the awning. One little guy has a small axe and has been hammering pegs anywhere he finds them.
Maybe I should have organized Mom entertainment for my kids on rainy days. Like ironing, dish washing, vacuuming. They would have had a ball.
Just now, I spotted all 9 kids on bikes, or rather all 7 on bikes, the six-month-old twins in a covered two-wheeled pram pulled by the eldest, a girl of about 11.
The bottom line here is, while I was sitting in my RV, bemoaning the weather and the fact that now I had nothing to do at all, these kids were making the most of it. Another lesson from the universe. Keep ‘em coming.
Betty
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