On Not Walking on Water

Yesterday, AC, Gillian and I attempted an ill-considered shopping trip to an outdoor mall (why did anyone build an outdoor mall in Western PA? No idea.). It was sprinkling as we got into the car to go, but I figured that the parking lot would be empty, so we wouldn't have far to walk to the stores, and things would be fine. But as we drove over there, the sprinkles turned to a torrential downpour. When we arrived, we sat in the car for a moment and then I said to AC, "We're not going to go in this store. There's too much rain."

"Go store," AC stated. Her first argumentative tactic is always just to insist and repeat. Sometimes, this approach is amazingly effective since I wear myself out trying to convince her of other options, while she simply keeps repeating "Marshmallow! Marshmallow! Marshmallow!" It's kind of a rhetorical jujitsu. Anyway, I digress.

I opened my door, stepped out, and got completely soaked before I could even get the back of the car open (much less pull out and open the double stroller, go around and get Gillian's carrier out and situated, and then go to the other side of the car to unbuckle Allison Clare and get her strapped in as well). I returned to my seat in the car and told her, "No, it's too rainy and wet."

"Use umbrella," she offered, helpfully.

"There's too much rain, Allison Clare. Look at how wet it is--see all the water?"

She peered out the window, then suggested matter-of-factly: "Get a boat."

Sometimes, her faith in me is rather humbling.