It rained for the first time in two months. Gabe ran around the front yard, laughing and celebrating. Monica and her daughter Cadence watched from the kitchen window.
“Mom, are all gardeners so weird?”
Monica sighed. “You father is special.”
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
Cadence watched her mom shake her head as Gabe attempted a cartwheel. He spun out of control into an azalea bush.
“Half of me comes from his genes,” sighed Cadence.
“Don’t worry, the other half comes from me,” replied Monica.
Cadence gave her mother a critical look. “You once cried because Nordstrom’s had a big sale.”
Monica glared back at her daughter. “I regret nothing.”
Gabe lay on the lawn spread eagle. The pouring rain splashed his face, making him choke.
“Is dad going to drown?”
“The question you need to ask yourself is this,” said Monica, “based on your genetic predilections, are you more likely to be the one who cries at a good sale, or the one who doesn’t have enough sense to get out of the rain?”
“That’s a terrifying thought,’ said Cadence.
Monica smiled. “Genetics: a parent’s ultimate revenge.”