It’s been pouring rain all day. The sky is ominously dark and I even heard a distant rumble of thunder. Our driveway has become a small lake. But still Eamon held onto his baseball dreams until minutes ago, when I got the official word from his coach.
“Your game is canceled tonight,” I told him.
“What?” he asked in total bewilderment. “Are we seriously supposed to be afraid of a little water?”
Well, I for one am afraid of a little water. I am deathly afraid of standing in a mud pit surrounded by 7 small, soaking people as they fall prey to hypothermia and have the nerve to complain about it. But I don’t expect a 10 year old boy to understand that.
“Yeah,” I said as I squinted out the window at the downpour. “What is their problem?”