If you have never witnessed a child’s first sighting of a rainbow, I suggest you borrow a kid and go on a rainbow hunt. (I tweeted about abducting a child and not returning it until you had found a rainbow together. Evidently joking about rainbow hunts with abducted children is frowned upon on Twitter, just FYI.)
Last night Brock saw his first rainbow. Rainbows are magical–even as adults. But in kidland, rainbows change lives.
We were finishing up bedtime routine, and a storm was just starting to clear. Brock saw the colored band in the sky and squealed. He ran to the patio, binoculars in hand, and was determined to figure out which tree the rainbow was landing in.
I decided this hunt would be more successful if we were mobile. I loaded my pajama-wearing 5-year-old in the car and we set out on our mission. He kept a close eye on the rainbow and played navigator.
“GO FASTER MOM!”
I asked what we would do once we found the tree the rainbow had landed in.
“Climb it! And dance.”
Of course. What a silly question.
Our rainbow faded with the light, and I brought my sleepy son back home to bed. I wasn’t sure if the hunt was a great idea afterwards–if somehow not finding the end of this colored ribbon in the sky would pop his magic bubble.
Brock was anything but discouraged by the unsuccessful mission though. I mean, what kid would be? He got to be an eye witness to something he had only ever seen in his coloring books. There is no such thing as a failed mission when you get to see your crayon sketches come to life.
His daily dream report at the breakfast table this morning was grand. Almost as grand as the explanation I had to give his teacher as to why my sleepy son was late for class. (And for the record, I don’t understand why “rainbow chasing” isn’t one of the reasons listed on school tardy slips.)