Thunder and Lightning
The thunder last night was cool, but it scared my brother to bits. I just sat there for a while watching the sky flash. The last big storm I remember was when I was in elementary, and the lights went out. Grandma went and found the candles, and for the one time in my life when it mattered, I couldn't find the flashlight under my pillow. I had been watching the storm through the glass sliding door then, too. I'd have been okay if there'd been a blackout this time, seeing as I know my way around the house in absolute darkness from all the late-night homework. Or maybe not even homework.
Brian had never seen a thunderstorm so big in his life. For the first time in a really long time, I saw him scared. Really scared. Not oh-my-freakin'-gosh-don't-you-ever-sneak-up-on-me-and-make-loud-noises-in-the-dark-again kind of scared. Little boy scared. He actually started crying. I kept telling him there was no way a lightning bolt would hit us or our house because:
-we were inside
-we have a short house. Ken and Rico next door would get struck first, because their house is so big. Not that I don't like Ken and Rico, but it proved my point.
-we, ourselves, are short.
-aren't there lightning rods to keep that from happening?
-the worst place to be was in an open field, and we were far, far away from being outside in an open field. Rather, we were in a short house surrounded by not-so-short houses.
And by the time I ran out of logic and facts, Dad had come home.
Oh, and I was counting, to see how far away it was, but until Dad came home, I was counting backwards. Turns out you count from the lightning to thunder, not from thunder to lightning. I was wondering about that. No, I really was. Trying to reason with myself, "What? Wait a minute. Light's faster than sound, isn't it? Isn't it? That's why Superman flies at the speed of light, not sound! ...Right?"
We're watching Star Wars tonight.
Brian had never seen a thunderstorm so big in his life. For the first time in a really long time, I saw him scared. Really scared. Not oh-my-freakin'-gosh-don't-you-ever-sneak-up-on-me-and-make-loud-noises-in-the-dark-again kind of scared. Little boy scared. He actually started crying. I kept telling him there was no way a lightning bolt would hit us or our house because:
-we were inside
-we have a short house. Ken and Rico next door would get struck first, because their house is so big. Not that I don't like Ken and Rico, but it proved my point.
-we, ourselves, are short.
-aren't there lightning rods to keep that from happening?
-the worst place to be was in an open field, and we were far, far away from being outside in an open field. Rather, we were in a short house surrounded by not-so-short houses.
And by the time I ran out of logic and facts, Dad had come home.
Oh, and I was counting, to see how far away it was, but until Dad came home, I was counting backwards. Turns out you count from the lightning to thunder, not from thunder to lightning. I was wondering about that. No, I really was. Trying to reason with myself, "What? Wait a minute. Light's faster than sound, isn't it? Isn't it? That's why Superman flies at the speed of light, not sound! ...Right?"
We're watching Star Wars tonight.