Ally says: My grandmother loved musicals and took every chance she could to pop in one of her favorite VHS films whenever I was over to visit (which was often, because my grandparents lived next door to my childhood home).  Hello, Dolly! and Chitty Chitty Bang Bang were top contenders for most played, but the one that got us most excited was Singin’ in the Rain.  We watched it so much, that when it came time for my grandmother to purchase another copy, to replace yet another lovingly worn VHS tape, we agreed on one simple parameter:

“If it rains outside, we’ll watch it. But only on a rainy day.”

It didn’t happen often in northern Michigan, but when it did, I’d drop everything I was doing and run bare foot across the small lawn separating my home from my grandparents.  My eyes would dart up and scan the sky above as I dashed, checking for the telltale sign of clouds gently rolling in above the trees.  I’d burst in through the front door and wipe the wet grass and mud from the pads of my feet on the welcome mat, before darting into the living room.  There, I’d find my grandma ready and waiting, with a spot next to her primed on the couch, and the opening credits of Singin’ in the Rain dancing across the small TV screen.

And then we’d sing along, like we always had, while it rained.