Wolfe’s Woofer: Thunder

Sunday, December 1st, 2019

“Will you pick up some plant food while you’re downtown?” Sherry asked. “It’s for those tomato plants I’ve been raising in the clay pots. They’re droopy and starting to get wrinkly because they’re getting old.”
“Do you really think it will do them any good?”
“Of course,” she said. “Anything old, droopy and wrinkly needs to be fed. That reminds me, your dinner is in the oven for when you get back from the bar.”
“All right,” I said. “I’ll just have one quick beer with the guys.”
Sherry said, “I’ll take a nap while you’re gone.”
I finished my beer and left for home just as a storm broke. It was one of those microbursts weather systems that we get a couple of times a year—a little mini-hurricane with furious thunder and lightning and rain by the bucket.
When I reached home, I struggled out of my wet clothes and changed them for some dry ones. While Sherry slept on the couch, I mopped most of the water and then ate my dinner. In the meantime, the storm dropped lightning around my house and huge claps of thunder shook it for over an hour.
Five minutes after the storm died out Sherry woke up.
“Why is there water by the door?” she asked.
“I’m still cleaning up from the storm.”
“What storm?”
I said, “The one with all of the thunder and lightning.”
“Are you kidding me!?” she said. “Why didn’t you wake me up? You know I can’t sleep when it thunders.”

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