
The Weather That Couldn't Make Up Its Mind
Fable
Ages 3–5 · 5 min
On a Tuesday morning, the weather cannot decide if it is a day for Mila's sundress, her rain boots, or her puffy winter coat.
Mila woke up on Tuesday and looked out the window.
It was sunny.
Mila woke up on Tuesday and looked out the window.
It was sunny.
"Sunny day!" she said, and she put on her favorite yellow sundress with the little daisies on it.
She skipped outside. The grass was warm under her bare feet. Birds were singing. Mila spread her arms wide and twirled in the bright, golden morning.
Then — just like that — the sky turned gray.
Not a little gray. A LOT gray.
Big fat raindrops fell on Mila's nose. On her arms. On her little daisy sundress.
PLIP. PLOP. PLIP. PLOP.
"Hey!" said Mila. "It was JUST sunny!"
She ran back inside, dripping puddles on the kitchen floor.
"Mom! The weather changed its mind!"
Mom looked out the window. "Huh. So it did."
Mila pulled on her red rain boots. She grabbed her big blue umbrella — the one with the frog on top. She marched back outside.
PLIP. PLOP. PLIP. PLOP.
She stomped in puddles. She splashed and kicked. Rain drummed on the umbrella like tiny fingers tapping.
Then the rain stopped.
And it got cold.
REALLY cold.
Little white snowflakes came spinning down from the sky, soft and slow, landing on Mila's arms.
"SNOW?" said Mila. "On a TUESDAY?"
She ran back inside. She was wearing a sundress and rain boots and carrying an umbrella and now there was SNOW.
"Mom! The weather changed its mind AGAIN!"
Mom looked out the window. "Huh. So it did… again."
Mila pulled on her puffy purple coat. She wrapped her stripy scarf around her neck — three times, because it was very long. She tugged on her fuzzy mittens. She still had on the sundress underneath. And the rain boots. And she still carried the umbrella. Just in case.
She looked like a walking pile of every season at once.
She waddled outside.
The snow was already covering the grass. Everything was quiet and white and soft. Mila caught a snowflake on her mitten and watched it melt into a tiny drop of water.
She started to build a snowman. She rolled a ball. Then a bigger ball. She stacked them up and gave the snowman her stripy scarf.
Then — the sun came back.
Warm and bright and golden, like it had never left.
The snow started to melt. Drip, drip, drip. The snowman leaned to one side. His scarf slid down. Mila's coat got hot. The puddles from the rain started to sparkle.
"Oh, come ON," said Mila.
She took off the coat. She took off the mittens. She closed the umbrella. She stood there in her yellow sundress and red rain boots with her melting snowman and her sparkly puddles, and the sun was warm on her face, and a bird started singing again.
The snowman drooped. Then he flopped over — SPLAT — right into a puddle.
Mila stared at him.
Then she laughed. She laughed so hard she sat right down in the wet grass.
"You know what?" she said to the sky. "You can't make up your mind. But I don't care. I had ALL the days today."
A little breeze blew past, warm and cool at the same time, like the weather was laughing too.
Mila picked up her scarf from the melted snowman puddle. It was soaking wet and covered in grass.
She wrung it out, hung it on the fence, and lay back in the damp, sparkly yard — sundress, rain boots, and all — watching the clouds drift by in the big bright sky.
One cloud looked like a snowman.
Mila smiled and waved at it.
"See you next Tuesday," she said.



