This was downpour worthy of some photos, so I hurried out the front door mumbling something of my plan to my boys. That was code for I'll be right back in; behave. It was wasted breath as my screech brought them both to my side in a flash. We all stood there in amazement laughing as our trash can sailed down our street like a boat on the sea its journey halted only as it joined the beginnings of a trash can party hosted by our neighbors. Talk about crashing a party! Thankfully no damage was done to the car they used to block off the unknown festivity lines but I bet they'll use caution tape next time. Had they not parked in the street, our little boat likely would have not stopped before Maryland. Donning flip-flops and draped in a green striped towel, Mitchel set out to be the party pooper. His face peeked out enough to see through the blinding rain as he sloshed through the minute made swamp. Time stood still but the rain did not as he rowed the reluctant party goer upstream and back home where he belonged.
Who would ever have thought that torrential rain, a racing trash can, a flash flood, flip-flops and two boys on the porch with their mom could amount to such a fun time?