Thursday, March 02, 2017

Thunder bolts and lightning

Last night we had a rather terrific thunderstorm, the first one in Zoë's memory. It started out relatively gentle, yet exciting. The house had been hot so I had the back door open and the children were watching the sky light up, then counting strokes until the thunder rolled.

As the evening wore on, the storm worsened—the wind strengthened, lightning flashed with vigour and thunder boomed more and more ferociously—rendering it even more exciting.

While we were reading scriptures (D&C 43), Benjamin started laughing when we got to verse 25:
How oft have I called upon you by the mouth of my servants, and by the ministering of angels, and by mine own voice, and by the voice of thunderings, and by the voice of lightnings, and by the voice of tempests...
"Thunderings and lightnings!" he whooped while bouncing on the trampoline (because sometimes he listens to scriptures while bouncing on the trampoline).

I had finally managed to get all the children into their pyjamas and (mostly) into bed when there was a terrific crack of thunder. Zoë had been selecting a book from the shelf to bring to me and she immediately collapsed onto a heap of sobbing baby on the floor. She cowered for a minute before collecting her courage and making a mad dash to the couch. She was joined a split second later by Benjamin, and both of them huddled in a little shaking mass on my lap.

When they'd recovered I prodded Benjamin off my lap and back into bed. While I was tucking him in, Miriam said, "I thought about running out to you, too, but then I thought your lap would be too full with both Benjamin and Zoë."

"My lap is never too full for you," I said.

The poor dear didn't have the energy to run out of her bedroom, anyway. But after that big boom, the storm seemed to die down (at any rate the subsequent thunder seemed relatively mild) and the kids were able to settle down to go to bed.

Zoë was quite certain the world was ending, though! Even this morning when we ask her about thunder she pouts because it was so scary.

"Did you like the thunder last night?" Miriam just asked Zoë, who shook her head no in response.

"Was it scary?"

"Da," Zoë answered solemnly (because apparently she's Russian now and says "da" now instead of "yeah" or "yes").

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