It’s a rainy holiday and my children are stuck in the house and they are well beyond boredom.
“There’s nothing to do,” the seven-year-old girl tells me. “We’re bored,” the five-year-old boy says. They look at me glumly when I tell them to watch the falling rain as it splashes outside the window. It’s something I used to do as a kid.
Time passes by and the rain falls heavier and the boredom worsens until suddenly their imaginations start revving and the rain becomes an ocean and our house the last one standing. Now the house is floating and our lives are at stake. There are monsters out there in the wildly wet world. And they want to eat us up!
“Monsters!” the two-year-old girl tells me as she scrunches up her face and lets out a roar.
The eldest girl tells me we have an escape from the monsters. It’s an elevator. But not just any elevator. It’s an absolutely and wonderfully amazing elevator. It can take you anywhere, she tells me feverishly. Go down and you’ll find dinosaur bones. Lots of them!
“Wow,” I say.
“But don’t go much deeper,” she warns me.
“Why?”
“Because you’ll find real dinosaurs!”
“Oh my!”
“You will!” she says. “And they’ll chase you. You’ll have to run or else they’ll eat you up. You’ll have to escape in the elevator up, up, up to outer space, far away from the dinosaurs. And even the ones that fly, the pter-o-dac-tlys. That’s what they’re called, right?”
“I think so.”
“But watch out,” she continues. “There are aliens in outer space and they have laser guns and they’ll shoot you so you have to be careful not to run into them. And take a helmet just in case an asteroid hits you on the head. And stay close to the elevator because you may have to jump in and escape.”
“Where to?”
But there’s no time for her to tell me. The pouring rain has stopped and the birds are chirping again. There’s a ray of sun on the lawn and now the blue sky and more sun. The kids are running outside to play in their wellies.
I watch them run and pray for more rain.