Raindrops keep falling on my head

When The Dad worked in the private financial sector, he was constantly bringing home fun things for The Daughters to play with.  Various vendors gave him things to give to customers, and he'd often bring home samples of such things as pens on a string, all-in-one stamps, silly putty, baseball caps, tennis balls, dog collars, and even umbrellas.  There was a time I swear we had a dozen umbrellas.  Truth.


Because I don't like to stifle creativity, and because if I say "yes" then I don't waste time arguing, The Daughters always had a grand time playing with these items.

It wasn't until last week that we discovered we were fresh out.  It was a rainy Saturday morning.  And by rainy, I mean we couldn't see past the front porch for the curtain of rain that was pouring from the sky!  The Dad had an appointment out of town and I had practice for Listen To Your Mother - NWA.  (Have you gotten your tickets yet?)

I think it was Paula Cole in 1996 who said,
"Where have all the umbrellas gone?"

As we stood at the door watching Oklahoma's first ever monsoon, The Dad turned to me and said, "Where are all the umbrellas?"

Good question, my dear.

I vaguely remember feeling umbrella rich last summer when The Daughters had left the upside down umbrella in the pool acting as a Barbie cruise ship and Bo The Dumb Dog got a hold of it and ripped it to shred.  They came running into the house broken hearted and I said, "No worries!  We've got more!"  Then we tossed it in the trash.

I also remember when we couldn't find the bats (because they were in the bat bags in the garage where they should have been) and The Daughters used an umbrella to play softball in the front yard.  They came running into the house holding an umbrella in three pieces and a bright yellow softball sobbing for their loss.  I said, "No worries!  We've got more!"  Then we tossed all the pieces in the trash.

On another occasion, Daughter 2 had a yard sale to raise money for poor people (herself).  She sold an umbrella to the neighbor's daughter.  And by "sold" I mean she traded her for a stuffed panda bear with gum in its ear.  She doesn't have a brain for business and poor people can never have too many sticky stuffed animals.

There was also a time when The Daughters were preparing for their audition on America's Got Talent.  This particular act was an acrobatic routine in which Daughter 2 would launch herself onto the umbrella and do a handstand from the inverted umbrella.  Don't worry - the umbrella was closed.  I'm not entirely moronic!  She took the umbrella in her little hands and, like a pole jumper, catapulted herself head over heels as the umbrella snapped in half.

I stood in the garage remembering all these great times with the umbrellas and finally answered The Dad's question:  I think we're out of umbrellas.

"Out?" he questioned.  "Like we're 'out' of milk or 'out' of bread?"

"Yep.  That kind of out." I replied.

He sighed.  I sighed.  We covered our heads with Hellmart sacks and ran.

We dashed madly through the "torrential rains" to our respective vehicles.  I'm sure when The Daughters win America's Got Talent, they'll buy us more umbrellas, right?