Yet again this year you have made an appearance. Don’t worry – that’s not a bad thing! Not in my opinion anyway. I am one of the few who do not shy away at the sight of you or run for cover when you come outside to greet us. I do not dislike you at all - quite the opposite in fact.
You see, I do not think of you as worse than your sister the Sun. I much prefer you to her if I’m honest; an opinion many, it seems, do not share. Most people squirm and squeal as you pour down from the heavens. Trickling down our backs and hitting our face with varying degrees of aggression, most people hide away in disgust, wishing that you would go away once and for all. While I laugh out loud with joy. Laughing and grinning, as you soak my cheeks and flatten my hair so that it sticks to my beaming face. You batter the top of my head as I walk down the street, very much umbrella-less, unlike those who rush by around me – hurrying for cover.
There are times though, when I don’t like you as much as I usually do. When you wrecked some of my books, for instance. Or soaked me through the skin so that I was shivering for the rest of the day. When you made your way through my school bag, ensuring that you touched every single bit of its contents and peeled their edges and covers as far back as you possibly could. When you slipped so slyly into our house and refused to leave until we gathered you up with raggedy old towels and floppy kitchen roll.
But that’s okay. No one can ever be perfect.
I used to have you around for the majority of the time and it’s only from your absence that I have grown to love you more. Some people may think I’m a weirdo for liking you, for flinging my arms out wide to welcome you while they huddle in crammed groups under bus shelters and overhanging rooves to escape you… But I don’t care. They may have their sweltering and overbearing Sun, but I have you. In all your damp glory.