Umbrella Wars

The weather was overcast this morning while we were getting ready to take Pig Jr. to school. The kidlets immediately decided that this meant it was the appropriate weather for rain boots and umbrellas. I figured I would humor them and let them get out whatever attire they deemed necessary, as it is almost never worth a battle at eight o'clock in the morning when caffeine has not already been ingested in its proper form: chocolate.

The first moment I realized this was a poor decision was when I herded Pig Jr. into the bathroom to brush his teeth. The second that door closed, I heard the unmistakeable sounds of umbrella fencing. Horse and Rooster held their makeshift epees while lunging and thrusting at one another. They continued sparring over my quite vocal objections until I actually exited the bathroom and repeated my "no stinkin' way" to their faces. Umbrellas were banished into our kitchen until time came to walk out the door, and peace reigned supreme while the threat of being grounded for the rest of their natural lives hung over the girls' heads.

Shortly thereafter, we attempted to walk out the door to head to the school. I say "attempted" because Pig Jr., who was in the front, stopped at the top porch step and refused to go any further. His obviously excellent eyesight spotted that which mine didn't: mist. All three kidlets gleefully jostled for position while opening their umbrellas lest they accidentally get damp while outside.

Finally, we were on our way. About a block away from home, I decided I needed an umbrella up, too, since the mist was beginning the slow transition to a drizzle and I had just managed to dry out my bag from the last time it had rained. After I opened up my umbrella, we shifted positions to continue our journey. We wound up walking single-file so our umbrellas would not, in theory, attack one another in close proximity. Horse led the way. Then came Rooster. Pig Jr. and I brought up the rear, with me slightly behind him, clutching the top of his backpack in order to steer him.

Horse was nervous being in front of everybody else. She kept tipping her umbrella forward so she could look back at us. What she really managed to accomplish here was to stop looking where she was going, thus tripping herself up far more than was truly necessary, and slow down, which led to Rooster bumping into her. Rooster never manages to hold her umbrella in the same position for more than a second or two at a time, so she consistently manages to trip over things in her rotating blind spot. We had to stop more times than I could count in order to separate Horse and Rooster from their bumbling into one another and whapping each other with their umbrellas.

Pig Jr. marched steadily along, completely and blissfully unaware of wherever he was going. He was holding his umbrella all by himself like a big boy, and could not care less whether he contributed to his sisters' umbrella wars or not. He could not see where he was going due to his constantly covering his face with his umbrella, which suited him just fine. I managed to steer him reasonably well through his backpack, and grabbed onto his arm when we crossed the various streets on our way. Unfortunately, since I was absorbed with steering my son, I often misplaced a step or two and bonked into one of my daughters. This would start a chain reaction of umbrella bonking that would not stop until it went all the way from me to Horse and then back again. It was almost like doing the wave at a sporting event.

By the time we made it to school, my arms were soaked from the umbrellas that kept bumping into me. My daughters were cranky with one another for a similar reason. Pig Jr. was already plotting how to put down his umbrella and steal his sisters'. He did actually succeed at his first attempt, oddly enough, which implies to me that we were all distracted by that point in time. Thankfully, there is a dry area under an overhang right near the door Pig Jr. enters. We could all put down our umbrellas, declare a temporary cease-fire, and wait for his teacher to emerge and start the day.

The girls and I waited for Pig Jr. to be safely delivered to his teacher before we took up our weapons, I mean umbrellas, and started the long trek home. Bashed and soaked from one another's umbrella bonkings, we finally arrived at home. I am currently thinking of investing in ponchos and never allowing the kidlets to hold an umbrella again. We might look like a bit odd, but at least we won't have to worry about a sneak-umbrella attack when we are getting ready to cross a fairly busy intersection. Until I make that decision a reality, I am just going to hope it only rains at night while my three attack-umbrella kidlets are sound asleep.