“I see funder!”
Megan has uttered these words so many times over the years, but they never cease to make us laugh. Not only because of the childish mispronunciation, but because we all know if she's seeing thunder, there’s definitely a criss-cross of thunder’s properties or her sensory skills.
Megan has always been fascinated by the weather. She’ll watch The Weather Channel for hours and then warn us of the dire conditions about to weave chaos and trauma in our little patch of earth.
Megan: Mummy! <eyes wide and stern look> Guess what’s happenin’???
Megan: Dare’s a stowm comin’!
Me: It’s just a little rain, it’s not bad.
Megan: Day said dares a townado comin’.
Me: Well, it might be that someone is getting a tornado, but it’s not us.
Megan: No, weally, it’s a townado fret!
That’s how it goes. And every day, she asks me at least 459 times to look at the clouds because it looks like rain. Even on a sunny, clear-blue-sky day.
Today Megan went out on the porch for a few minutes, and while she was out there, it started raining. It really was raining quite hard.
She came in and sat down in the kitchen while I made lunch, saying,” It’s poowin’ out. I got soaked!”
I looked over at her and saw she had nary a drop on her, and went back to the grilled cheese.
Megan, looking seriously mournful: I almost got hit by lightnin’!
Me: Meg, I don’t think so.
Megan: I weally did. If I got hit by lightnin’ and died, would you be sad?
Me: Oh Megan! Of course I would! I wouldn’t be able to go on! But that’s not going to happen.
I went to her at the table and hugged her tight. The thought of any of my children dying, even if it’s not even remotely plausible, makes powerfully desperate emotions surge through me like a tidal wave.
So I held on tight, hugging Megan extra long.
And then her head popped up.
“OOOOOP!! I see funder!”