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“No.”
“The ones when your grandmother and I didn’t have a pot to pee in, but we had each other. And it felt like that was all that mattered.”
“That’s really sweet.”
“And it’s true. We’ll get through this. Don’t you worry.”
If only it was that simple.
“Oops! That one is full,” he comments, as I help hoist him out of his chair.
“Here.” I take the bowl from him and walk it into the kitchen.
“Hurry back!”
“I know, I am.”
“Thanks.”
“So, what is the plan here? We’re just going to watch and empty each little receptacle when it becomes full?”
“Do you have a better idea?”
“No.”
“Right. So, all we can do is hope that the rain will stop.”
***
No matter how much wishing and hoping we do, the storm does not let up.
We spend the night in the living room, playing cards, and taking turns when we can get little catnaps in.
“When will this be over?” Mina whines, while it’s Grandpa Bob’s turn to get a little shut eye.
“I know, it stinks. I’m sorry.”
“I’m starting to wonder if we should’ve just stayed in San Francisco.”
“Really? I thought you liked it here.”
“I did—I do. But I would be sound asleep right now if we were in our apartment.”
“I’ve been having very similar thoughts.”
“You have?”
“Of course. I had to rush out in the rain to feed the animals. Do you think that’s a sentence I thought I’d ever be saying?”
We laugh together.
“So, do you really want to move back?”
“I don’t know. It seems wasteful to give up this soon. I mean, we just moved out here.”
“And I’m going to be starting a whole new school soon.”
“That’s true. Are you still feeling excited about all of that?”
