The first clap of thunder sounded in the distance, and Z. looked at me with a concern on his face, concern that has no business on a 16 month old’s face, and said “Uh, oh …” When he heard the next boom, he ran to me and said “Up, up,” and then grabbed me around the neck.
And then I took him to the window and we watched the rain come down, more like an east coast hurricane than a mid-west thunderstorm. Driving sheets that you can see moving across the field, wind blowing it this way and that. Dull roars punctuated with loud slaps as the rain shifts, hitting the roof, then the east windows, then the front door on the west side of house. But after a few minutes, his fear subsided and he was pointing at what he saw, trying to figure out the words to ask me what was going on.
It’s been the fourth wetting summer in Colorado history, which is a good thing for the sweet Olathe corn but not so good for clearing the cobwebs from ones head. Especially when there’s a lot weighing ones head down.
So Mr Sun, if you’re listening, how about a return engagement sometime soon?