When I was a kid, my father used to often say, “I hate like thunder that …” I knew that that meant, “I really hate that …”
But thunder was a big deal to me. As a child, i was often afraid of the loud storms that would roll over August County, where I grew up. One time, during a particularly bad storm, he took me into his lap and leaned me back against him.
“Don’t worry, honey,” he said. He tried to explain how thunder was just sound. But I didn’t get it. Thunder sounded like something really big and mean. Then he tried again, “Honey, you hear that awfully loud sound?”
“Well, that’s nothin’ to be afraid of. It’s just the water wagon rollin’ through heaven. That old sound, it’s just its big ole wheels turnin’.”
It’s the same story I told each one of my kids when storms have hit here. And just like then, it works every time.