35 : All in a Good Storm

The air was heavy. Typical for a St. Louis afternoon in July. The boys and I had just finished a morning out at the Big House. Francis was gone studying for a big exam related to his aircraft mechanics studies. Irish was leaving for a car hunt. And more storms were coming, moving rapidly across the state towards us.

Yali and I had just wrapped up reviewing Spanish vowels and colors with sidewalk chalk on the driveway.

You can just see him puff up with pride when he gets an answer right and I say, “Muy bien, Yali! Muy bien!”

The southwest was all piled up with dark storm clouds by that time. We called Puck outside to join us in some light rain before the big show hit. Both boys zoomed around in their shorts on the driveway, waiting larger drops, always active.

Earlier, Puck had convinced me to join him in a somersault tournament across the king-sized bed. I agreed to one somersault, reminding him that I hadn’t done so in years.

“WASN’T THAT FUN, MOM?!” he grinned.

I was embarrassed to admit that only one somersault left me feeling slightly dizzy. I blame that on the old sinuses. No more Six Flags in my future.

Thunder growled deep while we waited on the porch. We watched as the clouds seemed to pick up speed towards us. Wind wailed through the trees across the street.

“Okay, let’s go inside now,” I told the boys.

Once behind walls and windows, I suggested the boys go down to the basement as the wind rolled wildly through the neighborhood.

“Just in case,” I said, pulling up the radar on my laptop. “I’m going to stay up here and keep an eye on things.”

I opened the front door to feel the coolness of the wind as it rushed across the street.

“MOM!” Puck called to me. “COME DOWNSTAIRS WITH US! MOM! I DON’T WANT TO LOSE YOU!”

So I shut the front door, and we listened to the howls of the wind and thunder from the living room.

When the storm had passed, soft tacos for dinner and AFV for the boys. They love that show. The same goofy things tickle their funny bones, sitting side by side, guffawing and stuffing down tortilla chips.