Thunderstorms are number one in my dislike category, and wouldn’t you know it, I happen to live in what is called the lightening capital of the world. Don’t ask me who started that rumor or whether it is even true. But if you ask me, it is.

If you’ve been in central Florida in July and August, you know that thunderstorms are gonna happen and I mean every day or just about. I can hear that thunder rolling on in long before “you know who” can. Well, actually, this is when I love her the most and I really need her. I like to cuddle with her. The louder that old thunder gets, the closer I get to her. Sometime I end up in her lap. This is when I call her “mommy” and I really love her. She doesn’t admit it, but I think she likes it when I cuddle with her during the storms.

The reason I think this is because she won’t leave me during a storm. Sometimes she has important things to do like going to a dinner party or playing Texas canasta. But she just makes a call and says “sorry, I’ll be late, you can expect me when the thunder stops”. This really warms my heart and when she puts down the phone I lick her hands. I’m not sure whether she likes that, but she knows I love her anyway.

My heart bursts with pride.  I know it is hard for her to do this because it makes her friends think she is WEIRD. Well I suppose she is weird, I can’t argue with that. They also laugh at her behind her back, at least that’s what she thinks. It is probably because they don’t have respect for their babies and they just don’t understand.

Sometimes that thunder rolls in while she’s still at her afternoon water class or playing mah jongg at Maureen’s. That’s when I have to take matters into my own hands to protect myself. Here’s what I do: Instead of going into the left side of the pantry as is normal when she says   “bye, bye, sweetheart, be a good boy and I’ll be back”, what I have to do is use my nose to push open the door on the right side of the pantry. Then I stick my nose in the corner and leave my bum hanging out. This makes me feel safer, even though most of my body is out of the pantry and in the laundry room. When “she’ gets home, after she manages to push her way from the garage into the  laundry room with pantry doors still wide open and my bum hanging out I can hear her muttering something about it’s not hers to reason why. Once of these days I’ll figure that out.

There are some other things I don’t like such as when Vilma comes with her vacuum. I don’t know why she has to do that. First she calls me baby with her voice all sweet and dripping with honey, then before you know it she tries to scare the bejesus out of me when she turns on that infernal machine. What I do is escape to the garage, hop on our golf cart, and nap until I can go in and reclaim my domain.

I don’t especially like it when “she” plays the piano; Sand Cranes and ProScape are on my list too, but I’ll tell you about them later. I’ve had a busy day chasing geckos, so it is time for me to sleep.