Well, that was odd.
Not that I quote Jonathan Waite lyrics, although that qualifies…
No, there’s a brilliant storm raging across town tonight.
Loads of rain and thunder and lightning.
Usually nothing to worry about, but the thunder was getting loud, the lightning intense. It woke up the wee Fiona, so I went to her room and we had a talk about lightning and thunder. I was in the midst of explaining how the hot lightning makes the air in the sky rise like a cake, and when it cools, the cake collapses, sounding much like how when we clap our hands together. She was totally on board, nodding in ready agreement that there was nothing to fear, that it was – in fact – pretty cool to experience.
That was, at least, until a strike near our house.
I don’t know if it hit the house, or something near the house, or just did a little jig in the sky nearby.
Big flash; bigger bang.
And, with that, all sorts of battery-powered devices sprung to life at 1am in the morning. All of our fire alarms did their “battery dying” beeping song de la muerte. In Fiona’s room, a number of her toys started talking, flashing, whatever. In our bathroom, Fiona’s toothbrush, which has a flashing light to tell her how long to brush, began to illuminate the room. And the hair on my calves stood on end.
Fiona screamed (sky clapping be damned), as did Ewan, and now they’re all in bed with Mommy, while Piers and his infant brain are far too busy to care about dumb things like lightning and thunder.
I’m about to go make sure there’s no smoldering fire on the house, and then off to bed.