It began as a dreary, gray day, with rain threatening to pour from the sky at any moment. I spent the morning playing with the boys and trying to usher in a sense of purpose for the hours that lay before me. Finding nothing other than piles of laundry and dirt dishes to wash, I dug in to my regular household chores.

The grayness clung in the sky like a child who does not want to go to bed. As the afternoon approached, the light grew dimmer. It almost seemed as though the sun took one look at all the clouds and decided to call it a day. The drumbeat of raindrops started sometime around the hour Elliot finally nodded off for a nap (that being 2 p.m.).

With my chores mostly done, Alden and I set about baking some cookies to pass the time. We happily munched on our goodies (with tall glasses of milk, of course). Then, we read a book about the Mighty Bulldozer digging large holes and moving massive amounts of mud.

As we sat quietly enjoying more cookies, there was a sudden shift in the light. The back of the front that had brought us all the rain sat on the western horizon. The sun peaked below it, ready to set. It's as if the light was trapped inside a cloud prison, and upon its release, it hurried to bathe the world in a golden brilliance.

Elliot squawked from his crib, so I scooped him up and brought him downstairs. Then, slipping my shoes on and grabbing Alden's hand, we all slid out into the yellow, gauzy light. On the front stoop, we looked up and saw a rainbow peering down at us. I ducked back into the house to find a camera to capture it before it floated away on the coattails of the front that was headed to Michigan.

The dismal dawn had held no hint of this colorful finish. I had started the day dreading the hours of tedium that lay before me. Each gray-filled moment had compounded itself, until I felt completely weighted down.

As we enjoyed the last rays of the sun sinking over the horizon, I let the heaviness of the day leave with it. Tomorrow, I will look for another surprise ending.