Today is Thursday and this will be our fourth day in a row of thunderstorms. I hate thunderstorms. Mainly because they turn my four years old daughter and now my two years old daughter (who absolutely must do EVERYTHING her big sister does) into snivelling piles of whiny mush. Even the most subtle rumble of thunder miles and miles away will start Isabel quaking and blurting instant demands to sleep in our bed. (Funny this since it usually happens hours before bed time is actually to occur.) Monday most of the storms were in the afternoon which wasn't too terrible to manage. Tuesday, the storms began at 5:00 AM which meant that by 5:01 both girls were in our bed telling us how much they were afraid of t-storms. Lottie just repeats "scary" over and over again. Tuesday afternoon we had a repeat which quickly curtailed our idea to inflate the kiddie pool in the backyard. Wednesday, most conveniently, the storm started just as we were putting the kids to bed, which inevitably meant that I was confined to my room surrounded by small snoring tow-heads. Thank god for my unseemly obsession with home improvement blogs these days. At least I can keep myself entertained for a little while.
Course the 'effin weathermen are predicting t-storms all the way through next Tuesday. Lovely. By that time, I might be blogging about how I've run away from home.
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Evan experienced his first t-storm on the drive from DC to Philly. He heard his first clap of thunder and declared that it was quite enough for him, thankyouverymuch. Here at Grandma & Grandpa's, he heard yet another and looked very pensive. "Do you hear the thunder?" I asked. He shook his head. "It's not thunder. It's just somebody's garbage cans rolling around." Whatever it takes, kid....
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