We had a big storm move through early this morning, one that was all red and yellow blobs on the weather radar. It was loud enough to awaken Schuyler and me but not Julie, who will sleep through the Apocalypse, should all that Bible hooey turn out to be true. (Won't my face be red if it does.)
Schuyler and I sat in front of the window, watching the trees bending and the lightning flashing. I've always said that Schuyler is fearless, and that is mostly true, but the two exceptions are swimming in deep water, and thunder. She's not afraid of thunder, exactly. It just makes her nervous.
We sat and held onto each other and pretended to be scared and shivery every time a clap of thunder rolled by. I asked Schuyler what she thought caused thunder, and she had three theories, expressed through signs, mime and Martian since she didn't want to wake up Julie with her device.
Her first theory was that the thunder was pirates firing their cannons.
She then rejected that idea and decided that the thunder was the sound of a big fat man beating on his belly.
She finally discarded both of those theories and decided, without muchin the way of explanation, that the thunder was caused by our pug, Lulu.
Baaaaad dog.
5 comments:
This post brought back memories, I used to sit like that with my father when there was thunder during the night. Usually we just sat in silence, "looking at the show" as we called it. I don't remember being scared, but I guess nervous is a good way to describe it. I felt better being awake and ready for whatever could happen than sound asleep like my mom and sister.
I sometimes wish I could sit like that with my dad now. He's not dead, but we live in different towns, and I imagine he would be pretty surprised if I showed up on his doorstep in the middle of a nightly thunderstorm.
LULU the power pug ~ haha :)
My son and his wife have...uh...had two pugs and what came out of their hindquarters frequently leave no question in my mind whatsoever that Schuyler would interpret that as the noise of thunder. Smart girl, that Schuyler!
When we were little, my dad used to apologize every time it thundered.
I'm still giggling thinking about it.
Kisses to you sillies.
What an imagination!
I especially like the irony of such a tiny Pug causing such a large noise.
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