The boys were in Las Vegas for four days so Ali and I hung out here, watching sappy chick flicks, and eating too much chocolate. Richard called after only two days saying he was ready to come home. I told him that’s a sign he’s growing up. Ha ha.
Ali and I were out running errands with Max and Mason last weekend and, when we emerged from the craft store, the sunny, blue Florida sky had turned black. We had one more stop to make (the grocery store) and I was determined to get home before the sky opened up. We didn’t make it. Not even close. Despite me almost jogging through the store with the kids in tow, we got slammed before we even made it out of the produce section. The low hum of the grocery store turned into a roar as the deluge slammed the roof. We get tons of rain here this time of year but this storm had all the shoppers and employees buzzing with nervousness and excitement.
When we emerged from the store, a grocery store employee was handing out umbrellas, telling people to bring them back next time they visited. We had our own so I left the kids by the door, and dashed into the sideways rain to the truck. The umbrella was no help at all. I was thankful I didn’t get struck by the non-stop lightning! I jumped in, and drove to the back of the parking lot to turn around so I could pull up horizontal to the front of the store. The parking lot was already flooded there and water was pouring over the curb, onto the passing avenue.
I got back to the front of the store, and jumped out, dashing to the other side. I opened the passenger side back door and all the specialty paper I’d bought at the craft store for a special project fell out onto the wet pavement. I tried to scoop it up but it instantly disintegrated. It was like trying to scoop toilet paper off the asphalt. Oh well…
We managed to get the boys and the groceries inside before putting our own soaking selves in the front seats. We then headed home through high water. Thank Heaven we have a truck. After we unloaded the groceries at home, we had to change out of our wet clothes.
About an hour later, Frank’s girlfriend, who was supposed to come watch sappy movies with us, texted to say she’d driven her car into high water and it had stalled out. People helped her push it into a driveway and, long story short, her engine is toast. The good news is, she’s okay.
Our weekend was pretty boring after that, thank goodness!
This week’s Masonism:
Mason (age 7) shocked us when he used the word “prostitute” on the way home from dinner tonight.
I asked him, “Mason, do you know what a prostitute is?”
He replied, “Yep. A sexy person who loves money.”
Angela Hoy lives in St. Petersburg, Florida. She is the publisher of WritersWeekly.com, the President and CEO of BookLocker.com and AbuzzPress, and the author of 24 books.
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Angela is the creator of the Original 24-Hour Short Story Contest!