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?”
I nodded.
“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.