The flaps of his lion hat bounced as he ran forward. Everyone else moved carefully through the downpour, but he had sprinted out of some umbrella and was weaving his way through our knees. His cheeks were flushed and jiggling. I looked in alarm behind him: Where was his grown-up?
A ways back, I spotted him. A tall man looking forward at the boy, walking slowly and steadily, smiling as the impatient little one started to run backwards and then forwards again. The boy rolled his eyes and held his hands palm-up, crying dramatically: “COME ONNNN!”
Ahhh… His bright blue tongue matched his eyes. He had enjoyed some sugary snack after school. That explained all the running in the rain.
The father continued calmly forward, jingling his keys in his hand. “COME ONNNNN!” said the son again, and he sprinted back towards his father, grabbing the keys out of his hand and running back to the door he stopped at before. The boy held the key up to the sensor and the door opened. He pushed it open and closed it quickly behind him, leaving the father outside in the rain.
I spotted it as I walked away, as they made faces at each other through the glass: The same blue eyes, and the same blue tongue.
Eventually, the son let him in, and almost half a block away, I could hear the shrieks of tickle-punishment.
I closed my umbrella and stuck my tongue out to steal some rain, and it tasted sweet. I grinned.