The elementary school bus was late. I had to bring my husband the sandwich he left at home. I forgot my computer and had to drive home to get it. I scalded my mouth on tea from my damn-that-keeps-tea-really-hot travel mug. There was traffic everywhere because of detours and road construction (see sentence #1). I ended up not having to go, but maybe I would have been better off at jury duty.
N asked me if he had to have the same birthday party as his twin brother S.
"Do you want me to book the rec. center for two weekends in a row?" I asked.
"No," he said. "I want to have my birthday party in the car."
I suppose I should have said yes.
I could have limited the amount of kids he can invite to the number of seat belts the minivan has.
People like to spin rain on important occasions as good luck.
So what if it rains on your wedding - the most anticipated day of your life - and the limo splashes mud on the dress you fought off other rabid brides to get a Filene's Basement? It's good luck! No one's ever gotten divorced whose had to cancel their wedding-day oceanside photo shoot right? Right.
And rain at a funeral is considered lucky as well.
Lucky for who?
Seems to me the poor sod getting memorialized could have used that luck a few days earlier.
But rain on the first day of school? No one tries to look on the bright side of that because there is no bright side unless it's to say, "Look. It's raining out. You might as well go to school."
Rain on the first day of school is just the physical manifestation of the rain in a child's heart as he or she climbs on board the bus, having just figured out one week earlier that having nothing scheduled to do and being board are not the same thing. Or maybe it symbolizes the rain in the heart of a teacher who has finally gotten over feeling guilty for relaxing at the beach and not grading papers instead.
Rain on the first day of school washes away the fake smiles and prolongs for at least one more day a child's anxiety over who they'll play with at recess.
Rain on the first day of school is entirely appropriate, especially when the only thing that's great about third grade is that now (finally!) you can sit at the back of the bus.