I find the older I get the more unacceptable it is to like certain things. Or rather, it becomes an obligation for adults to hate unchangeable conditions.
When you grow up, I don't think you're supposed to like the rain. And while part of me falls into the uniform dislike of dreary weather, I still find myself hoping it won't stop. Secretly, I'm glad when an entire day gets eaten up by clouds.
I know what I'm supposed to think.
But I can't help but feel I should go run around in it.
I guess my point is that it's okay to still play in the rain.
Especially if you are trying desperately to avoid becoming an adult.
UPDATE: I totally spun in circles on my deck today after work because it started drizzling after I asked Mike if he wanted to go for a walk, and then he locked me outside. So, Mike is a jerk. And, playing in the rain? Officially achieved. Hoorah!