Come again!

We finally got some rain here, which M has been eagerly awaiting. M, who spent months screaming at the mere mention of rain (or a car wash, the heaviest rain storm we ever see) after some unwelcome sprinkles fell on the way home from the park. Dear M, who finally worked his hatred of rain into an absolute infatuation, regardless of the fact that we don't see rain, hardly ever. Poor M, who patiently asked each day we were in Kauai when the rain would arrive (and no, it didn't arrive, not one single day, even though it was storm season in the wettest place on the planet). Beloved M, who returned home still asking, most mornings, if it might rain that day.

Well, it did rain. Last night. After he went to bed. Finished before he got up, too. Dear, poor, beloved M.