3.15pm outside school cold and wet. An unexpected downpour soaked the Mums waiting to collect their kids. One lady stood in a summer dress that now looked like a night-dress she'd taken a shower in. Others, in jeans and t-shirts, hunched over the puddles forming at their feet.
As I waited, I looked around at the adult's scowling faces. A few had rain coats and were chatting while doing the "English Penguin" a sort of shuffle from side to side while flapping the arms at the sides of the body - a standard communication of cold and malcontent.
Then the school door opened and the kids came screeching out laughing and squirming in the rain. They were let out in small groups, either so they could find their parents and leave quickly, or so the teacher was guaranteed an internal organisation job that spared her the public humiliation of stepping outside and performing the "English Penguin" in front of 150 parents.
But I couldn't help notice how every single group of kids came out laughing and playful. After a few minutes my own giggling girlie shot under my umbrella and gave me a big hug and we splashed our way home with me once again reminded of how readily children laugh and find fun.