When the rain begins to fall, I like to feel the kiss of wetness falling down upon my head, as I played a game of kickball with my two brothers in our backyard.
The clouds emerged, and the sky grew dark, but we didn’t care. We continued playing kickball, because we wanted to finish our game. It was important to us to play at least ten rounds before determine the winning team.
My brother John tossed the ball, and I kicked it, causing it to land in the mud next to the garage. John ran after the ball, and slipped, falling on the grassy area. Upon him recovering the ball, I walked over to him to check his pants. Grass stains appeared on the back of them, along with grass stains.
“What’s wrong?” He asked, while grasping the ball in his hands, and looking at me dumbfounded.
“Nothing really. I just wanted to see something,” I replied while brushing off the grass and loose dirt from his pants.
“What did you want to see?” He inquired, tossing the ball up in their air to himself.
“I noticed some grass stains and dirt on your pants. I brushed off the loose grass and dirt from them. But mom is going to have a hard time getting those grass stains out,” I warned him, as I brush my hands together to clear the loose dirt away from them.
“No she won’t. All she has to do is put some Shout spray on the stains. They’ll come out of the pants beautifully. Now, let’s get back to the game,” he insisted, while getting in ready position to toss the ball to our brother Stanley while I ran over to first base.
The sky rumbled. I noticed a streak of lightening in the sky. “We better go inside the house. It’s dangerous to be outside right now. Did you see the lightening streak up in the sky?”
“I agree with Kiki. Johnny, we’d better go inside now,” Stanley said as he walked off the grassy area and onto the cement driveway.
John and I followed him.
Once we were on the cement, the rain fell rapidly, getting our clothes drenched.
We ran inside the house, tracking mud onto the wooden floor.
“We’d better take off our shoes and get the mop the basement to wipe away the mud. I’m taking off my socks, too. You guys should do the same,” John advised, while he ran down the stairs leading into the basement, while grasping his shoes and socks.
Stanley and I followed suit.
John went into our great-grandfather’s kitchen and got the mop. The bucket was in the kitchen on the main floor. However, it didn’t matter. He went into the bathroom to run the mop under some lukewarm water in the bathroom sink, rung it out with his hands, and headed upstairs to wipe the mud away from the wooden floor near the entrance. “Bring me some paper towels, one of you, so I can dry the water up from the floor. I got all the mud out of the wooden floor. Stanley, if you can take the mop from me I can wipe down the floor with the paper towels.”
I ran into the kitchen and tore off six paper towels from the roll.
Running up the stairs, I slipped, and slid back downstairs. I didn’t break any bones, but I twisted my ankle. I let out a loud scream.
“Kiki, you should have walked up the stairs. You know mom told you not to run in the house,” John advised he came down the stairs to get the paper towels from my hand.
Pushing myself up, I dusted myself off. “I only twisted my ankle. I didn’t break it. But it still hurts,” I cried while taking the mop from him, and handed it to Stanley who was standing on a couple of the steps below me.
Stanley walked down the stairs, holding the mop with care, and put it in the bathroom to dry.
Following him into the bathroom, I noticed the mop on the carpeted area. “Stanley, you can’t leave this here. The mop is wet. If you leave it on the carpet, it gets moldy.”
© Copyright, Kiki Stamatiou, 2015