rain on the parade

“It’s a washout.”

I looked at her and shook my head. “It will be over in an hour and the parade will start.”

"I’m an Indian and I know,” she replied.

“Well, I’m a computer person…” a boom of thunder shook the house, interrupting me.

“I thought you were going to say you’re a clown,” she laughed.

That time I squinted at her. She looked serious. "I am a computer person and I checked the radar and it will end and the parade will begin on time,” I said and walked out of the room. Let her think what she likes. I know what will happen.

Out on the back porch I watched the downpour. Buckets of rain came down and the wind whistled through the trees. No birds or squirrels around now. Where do they hide? It was really storming. I wouldn’t mind being a clown. The long flapping shoes would be too much to walk with, but the bald wig with the hair sticking out on the sides would be fun, and the big red nose.

Then the rain stopped and we could hear the parade band a few blocks away. She was eating cookies.