BANG! CRASH! BOOM! The thunder rolled as the rain plummeted the aluminum awnings that shaded each of our windows in our humble first home. The dogs ran for cover into their each respective canine caves. The cat fumbled with the door to the under the sink cabinet for his hidey hole. I even jumped out of my seat with as much grace as I could muster so I wouldn't pass on my fear of thunder and lighting to a vulnerable 3yr old Squirt.
She realized at that moment that everyone feared the big noise coming from outside and determined that maybe; perhaps she should be a scaredy cat too. She ran into my arms in search of safety, comfort and explanation.
"Remember the Pirate's Beards you've noticed on our trees outside?" I asked. "Well once in awhile those silly pirates like to carry on and play games with their pirate ships in the sky. They have water cannons that go BOOM! They jump off planks that go BANG! And sometimes they go CRASH! into a tree and get their beards all tangled up in the branches."
"Well this my dear," I embellished, "is what is happening right now outside. Those Arrrrr-ornery pirates are out there making a big mess but we're very safe inside."
She never feared thunderstorms since, yet now that she is 8 she knows that these ornery pirates do not exist. Only I don't know whether it is to not disappoint me or because she likes to play - whenever a storm rumbles on the horizon she wants me to go to weather.com to bring up the map to see what direction the Pirates are sailing.
Much like she still wants me to go to NORAD's website to track Santa each year.
Just last week on our way to school we drove by a home decorated to the hilt for Easter. In the front yard stood a giant pink inflatable Easter Bunny on top of a hay pile nest of giant colored eggs.
She looked at me and asked, "Mom? Why do people believe in fake stuff like a big scary Easter Bunny who craps jelly beans and lays eggs?"
I was speechless, half wondering if the time has come where my little girl has figured out the whole Easter Bunny, Tooth Fairy and Santa conspiracy. Then she said, "Why don't they believe in the real stuff like Jesus?"
Nevertheless, here it is the night before Easter morning and I have yet to make a run to pick up Easter basket goodies. Only I don't know whether I'm doing this to not disappoint her or because I like to play. What I do know is whenever a storm rumbles on the horizon of her little life she'll want to go to Holy Bible to see what direction she should be sailing.
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