It drives Thomas crazy. He has attempted to school me in the ways of the umbrella, without success. He says you have to be smarter than the umbrella. Whatever that means.
This evening Thomas and I walked to the post office in the rain. It was a light rain, so we only brought one umbrella. My idea. We should have been able to share one umbrella, walking hand in hand like two lovers on a postcard, or like the Hollies' song Bus Stop.
I realize now, after trying it, that it takes some kind of X-Man super power for two people to walk under one umbrella.
Tracie: My purse is getting wet.
Thomas: Tilt the umbrella a little more to the left.
Tracie: The wind keeps blowing the umbrella around. It's pushing it back.
Thomas: That's not the wind. There is no wind. That's the side of my head.
Tracie: Why are you moving away from me? Don't you love me? Aren't you worried about getting wet?
Thomas: It's alright if I get wet. Your feet are wet, so it's kind of fair that my head should get wet, too. This proves I love you. Plus, it is safer over here on the street by the cars.
At this point he mumbled something about sharp objects and eye patches. I knew he was right. I can't use umbrellas. I've known it my whole life, and at this point it has become a safety issue. Umbrellas are a conspiracy and a lie.
By the time we reached the post office, we were both soaking wet. Next time Thomas declares he will bring his own umbrella and a first aid kit. Maybe we will battle each other. Since umbrellas are unable to keep anyone dry anyway, we should have some fun.
Does the rain fall sideways under your umbrella to attack you?
*NaBloPoMo hates umbrellas, but loves the rain.