Ogres in the Rain

When rain clouds gather overhead and suffocate the struggling spring sunlight, something strange happens in our home. Music from the Twilight Zone begins to play; our complexions carry a murky greenish hue, we gain 200lbs, sprout saucer shaped ears and jut out our under bite jaws as we frown, spit and groan. We’re not upset at anything or anyone in particular. We’re just ogres.

Aogre enjoys spending his time in destructo-mode. It is a lot of fun (especially when you’re an ogre) to find new, hazardous uses for everyday objects. A backscratcher, for instance, is a great destructive tool for shorter orgres. It stealthily pulls down items from the shelves and freezer that small ogre arms can’t reach—added bonus: it can perform such tasks long before Momogre understands what’s going on.

Then again, it isn’t all that difficult to sneak something past Momogre. She lumbers around, unsure of which household task to take tackle first, loathing them all. Momogre really only wants to bundle up the little ogres, go outside in the rain and make a mess in the mud. But Jogre is not quite old enough to marvel in the merriment of a muddy mess. His tastes have not yet evolved past dirty diapers.

Someday Jogre will find satisfaction in splashing and squishing and sitting in the mud—just like his brother Aogre. But until then, he will have to settle for snickering at Aogre’s puddle antics as he snuggles with Momogre in the sling. Nothing makes a family of ogres more joy than bumbling outside with broken umbrellas in the rain.