I’m short, but not short enough to shop in the petite section. Given the choice between high waters or torn, worn bottoms of jeans from being stepped on by yours truly, I’ll take the slightly longer jeans any time. Nobody wants to see my ankles. All of this means that if it rains, my pants drag in the rain. And if it pours, it’s gonna be a long, cold day until I can get home and change. Typically, the wetness doesn’t just stay on the bottom inch or two of my jeans, but climbs halfway up my calf. It’s such an unfortunate and uncomfortable situation.
I remember having this problem all the time in college. Let’s don’t even waste much time over the fact that I didn’t ever even bother with umbrellas after a few turned inside out on me. Rain is bad in Ruston. Rain is different in Ruston. Ruston – or maybe just Tech’s campus, perhaps – has horrible drainage. I remember one summer I was taking a sociology course. My friend, Micah, was in the class with me. I was running a bit late and Dr. Martin didn’t take kindly to people showing up late. We were having a test that day, so I wasn’t about to just not show up. I was running to class as fast as I could in the middle of a downpour, and suddenly, when running through one of the lakes that had built up on account of the poor drainage, my flip flop slipped right off my foot and started quickly floating away from me. I ran after it – jeans getting ever more soaked – and then chased it in circles as it literally circled one of the sporadic storm drains in a whirlpool. It was quite the experience. I remember feeling a little panicked! Finally, I caught the wayward flipflop, got on semi-dry ground, and ran to class. I remember walking in, leaving a wet trail with every step, looking like a drowned rat, and getting some strange looks from Micah and the other few classmates we socialized with who sat near us. I told Micah what had happened and she couldn’t stop laughing and told me she would have paid money to see that happen. She actually asked me to reenact the whole thing, if I’m remembering correctly. (Thanks for the compassion, Micah Rae!) Being soaking wet in a storm was not unusual back then, but that particular time was definitely the worst and the most memorable.
For me, in the first 32 years of my life, it seemed, my options for a rainy day were as follows:
a) rolled up jeans until I made it indoors – that’s attractive!
b) drenched jeans halfway up to my knees – that’s comfortable!
Then a couple of years ago I saw a really cute pair of rain boots at Steinmart. Rain boots. What a novel idea. For our birthdays, my sister & I like to both take the day off work and have a day of fun together. So for my 32nd birthday, we went to Shreveport. We stopped by Steinmart over there and the boots I had been admiring were in stock. Happy birthday to me. My feet and jeans have been dry & happy ever since.
And adding to the joy of rain boots – sometimes when it’s not too cold out and we’ve gotten a lot of rain and I decide Sayid is due for a bath, I’ll put on my boots and take my sweet boy to the playground to splash in puddles. Splashing in puddles is fun even when you’re not a kid or a dog. Trust me; I speak the truth! Go get yourself a pair. When winter is over and the weather has warmed up, take your kids (or your dog) and go splash with them. You can’t help but smile, and a happy pair of rain boots tends to make a rainy day a little less gloomy. Rain boots. They’re one of life’s simple pleasures.