And after school, a storm

Whether the weather is warm, 

Whether the weather is hot, 

We have to put up with the weather,

Whether we like it or not.

(Traditional rhyme)

While on the back patio, I notice that the wind picks up and the sky darkens. The girls stop playing; we all look up.

I yell, "Run for it!" and the girls, the cat, and I -- in that order -- all sprint for the door. Before I reach the door, the sky opens up and, within a second or two, I am drenched.

Malibu the cat, who has been behind her, suddenly overtakes Molly. But even as I hear a very loud bang and shattering glass, I don't yet know the extent of her mischief until I discover Devyn, under whose feet Malibu had run, on the kitchen floor. She is rubbing the elbow on which she'd landed (after banging into the trolley). Malibu is nowhere to be found...

I wish that I'd taken a photo of the sky

and of the storm.

At any rate, before bedtime, Molly inspects the front yard for damage.

Logic abounds

It's Sunday morning, and Molly has slept in. It occurs to me that there is something happening that is even more unusual than sleeping late: she's lying down and talking to me. She hasn't attempted to get out of bed. At all.

As still as she lies, she calmly tells me that she doesn't think that she can get out of bed...Before I leave her room, I turn around to speak:

Me:   I'll be right back -- I'm just going to do some research. I need to find out why you're having trouble getting out of bed.

Molly:   Because my NECK is stiff.

Me:      Sure. I just want to see why your neck is stiff.

Molly:   Because it HURTS.

Me:      Yes, of course. But I just need to find out why it hurts.

Molly:   Because I have a SORE THROAT.

Me:      Okay, yes. You're right. Um, I need to find out why your throat is sore.

Molly:   Because I had my TONSILS out, remember?

At this point, palm to forehead, I can't even recall why I want to leave the room in the first place; and I have to hold my head to stop the spinning sensation.

But I need to press on -- the research -- and then it hits me: the urge to giggle because it's so damn cute, because only Molly could have said it, because it speaks to this facet of her personalty that we who admire her know so well.

She is intensely logical, even with a very infected lymph node in her throat, and the puzzled expression that looks at me as I stand in the door assures me somehow (even more than Google will) that she will be okay.

(Back-posted)

Not a light lunch...

Devyn: I like the idea of being born over and over again. So the world never ends...

Molly: But, wait! You would have to be born first.


(Back-posted)