You know, just the other day I commented to someone how nice it is to not have to constantly worry about the weather for my daily commute. It’s spring after all!
And then a mom at the school called me tonight with a musical question and casually mentioned the 18 inches of snow predicted.
I looked up the weather report:
* ACCUMULATION/WIND… SNOW AMOUNTS WILL GREATLY VARY FROM LOCATION TO LOCATION DEPENDING ON WHEN THE RAIN CHANGES TO SNOW. UP TO 18 INCHES WILL BE POSSIBLE IN THE FOOTHILLS ABOVE 8000 FEET. ELEVATIONS FROM 6000 FEET TO 8000 FEET MAY SEE ANYWHERE FROM 6 TO 15 INCHES OF SNOW. THE AMOUNTS WILL DEPEND ON WHEN THE RAIN CHANGES TO SNOW… AND HOW THE STORM SYSTEM EXACTLY EVOLVES. NORTHWEST WINDS OF 10 TO 20 MPH WITH GUSTS UP TO 30 MPH WILL INCREASE TO 20 TO 30 WITH GUSTS TO 45 FRIDAY NIGHT CAUSING AREAS OF BLOWING AND DRIFTING SNOW.
That should make our dress rehearsal interesting.
I’m going to go check my phone to see if school’s been canceled yet.
On a related-but-side-note, during first period today, the kids were very lethargic. After doing a run-though of their play (I love 30-minute-long productions!), I said, “Okay, stand up!”
They reluctantly groaned their way to their feet.
“Good,” I said. “Leave your stuff and follow me.”
They did, warily.
I led them to the back doors of the theater and opened the doors to the parking lot/mountain panorama. It was raining.
“Come on out,” I said to the teenagers huddled at the door. “You can stand under the ledge if you don’t want to get wet.”
They filed out onto the loading dock.
“Okay,” I said, “Now yell ‘Plays suck!'” (It’s a line from the play they’re doing.)
They all grinned and yelled into the storm, “Plays suck!”
“Make the other building hear you!”
“Now, ‘I love the earth!'”
“I LOVE THE EARTH!”
“Excellent! Now go run in the rain.”
This time they didn’t hesitate. The entire class took off running across the parking lot. They looped around and came back to where I waited at the door. Everyone was dripping wet and grinning. A few eyed a gushing rain spout off the roof of the theater.
“Go ahead,” I said. “Just watch out for the mud.”
And they thrust their hoodies and cell phones into my hands and danced under the mini-waterfall.
And then we all went back into the theater and got back to work.
That’s how my drama class celebrated Earth Day.
At what age does it become “understood” that running through the rain is not a socially smiled upon behavior? Thank you for allowing people who are technically still deserving of their childhood another moment to revel in a simple happiness!