It is raining so, so, so hard. I’m huddled in my kitchen, with a clean stack of fresh smelling socks, towels, t-shirts and shorts for the boys to put away as soon as they get home. One is already on the school bus that’s heading over to the soccer game that starts in 30 minutes.Â AnotherÂ one is one his way home from soccer practice. Another one is at the river, probably just putting his boat on the lift.Â And the fourth, he’s down the street at a play date — just called to ask he if could eat dinner there.
And the rain just started. It came out of now where, and caught all of us by surprise. There is no lightning, so practice and games proceed as normal. Despite the clean clothes I’ve just washed … I get no extra points to overcome the smelly mess that is now heading my way. Each boy is now drenched to the bone, the one at the river probably looks like a rat.
When did that moment happen? When did a nice hard rain in the afternoon make me think of shoes?Â Does anyone know how to get rid of that smell that comes with dirty wet shoes — even the washer loaded with vinegar, baking powder and Borax cannot remove?
And now, it’s my turn. We’re heading out the door, umbrella in hand, to watch that sloppy soccer game.