Love, Actually

It's raining today in good ole Hoboken, but it's a steady spring rain, not an icy winter soaker, and I'm actually enjoying it. Not Ian.

"Mom? Why is it raining?"

"Just because it is." Having not had my coffee, that's about as creative an answer as I can muster.

"I don't like it. It makes the mud all squishy and you can't play there."

True. Ian steps square into a puddle and soaks his right Adidas sneaker.

"I don't like puddles."

Well don't step into them, I'm thinking.

"Mom? Why is it raining?"

Oh, brother. "It's raining because it will help the grass to grow and then you won't have all that mud. Isn't that good?"

"OK." Ian walks a few steps and then shifts to a new, but related, topic. "Mom? My pants are dying."

"Your pants?"

"NOOOOO!" Ian must be thinking "Boy, this Mom doesn't listen very well!" The thought has crossed my husband's mind on more than one occasion, and now his sons are experiencing the same hair-pulling joy of talking to someone who's not paying attention.

"No, Mom! My PLANTS! My plants are dying."

"You have plants? In class? Ian that's really cool."

He's totally underwhelmed. "I guess so. But actually, they're just dying."

The word "actually" has recently come on full force in Ian's vocabulary. He uses it at any opportunity.

"Can you show them to me when we get to class?"

"Sure."

We get to class and he shows them to me, sitting by the window, which is getting pattered with rain today. They look pretty happy and green to me. I explain to Ian that the little green leaves at the bottom are new growth. He looks encouraged, though he's only half paying attention because Rebecca has just walked into the classroom. The ceiling could cave in on us and Ian probably wouldn't notice. I'll admit, Rebecca is cute.

"Actually, Mom? I need to go talk to Rebecca now. See you later."

And he's off. But he'll be back. Actually, I'm sure he'll be back. I still do his laundry.