Southerners can’t drive in the rain (Although the more people I meet from other places, the more I’m convinced that it’s becoming a national issue at the very least.). But it isn’t our fault. I was trying to explain this to my husband (who is from Michigan) when we were dating, but he just wasn’t getting it. Then I realized why: Daniel moved here in 2009. AKA the Year of The Ahhh Ahhh Ahhh Run Away Floods. I told Daniel I had never seen so much rain in my life. He kind of believed me. Then it snowed the next February. Again, more snow than I had ever seen. Until the next December and January, where it proceeded to snow so much that any chance of me convincing Daniel that this never, ever happens was pretty much nil.
Today, as it rained like crazy and I found myself surrounded by several people unable to drive in the rain (much like myself), I started thinking about
what an awesome blog post this would make why this is the case. And I think I’ve got the answer:
See, we were in a drought. For, like, 28 bajillion years. I don’t have any actual stats on that but I’d say 28 bajillion is pretty close. So when we see rain, it confuses us. What is this magical moisture falling from the sky? Is it an alien invasion? Are we supposed to worship it? WHAT DOES IT WANT??
And the snow? Forget about it. I have as much experience with snow as a camel does with the Great Lakes. This is why all of the toilet paper, water, beer and milk disappears off the shelves – what if this time, the snow really does signify the end of the world? Best to always be prepared, don’t you think?
But when it rained and snowed so much these last few years, we entered this other world, this Narnia-like place where rainbows beckon you with Skittles and unicorns offer you new cars. It took us to a magical place where we suddenly understood how the world worked. And it was glorious. Alas, it was short-lived. We thought we were weather-whisperers, conquerors of all things inclement. But we weren’t. Not even close. And now we find ourselves back where we started, confused and frightened by this unusual liquid falling from above. Wow – that was pretty poetic. No one steal that.
So. Rain. What the heck, right?
|“Please, I’ll do whatever you ask. Just leave my family alone.”|