Show Me the World

My 4-year-old granddaughter just came into my bedroom and said, “I hear thunder, show me the world.”

Of course, what she meant was the wunder-ground map. It shows the storms over our area and she has seen it, a lot, lately. Its overcast and we can see clouds, but the map doesn’t show any and the thunder could be minutes away or miles away, who knows?

My husband will call if there are warnings coming our way. As a lab technician for a paving company, it’s a given that he will know before I do, that it’s time to take cover. They watch the radar because you cannot pave in a thunderstorm.

It’s really cute listening to the 4-year-old because her vocabulary has grown a great deal over the last year. She’s gone from 2 to 3-word sentences, to Einstein proportion statements. What is more interesting, as you listen to her, is really hearing how she thinks;  all the little things we take for granted every day become well-thought out essays in her mind. The cat, one of her more interesting daily thoughts, is the one being that she understands, but does not totally know what to think about him.

The feeling is mutual, he doesn’t know what to make of her and he wishes—you can see it in his eyes—that he didn’t have to deal with her either. Our cat is one of the quietest souls on earth until he wants something, and then he starts. His mewing growing louder with the aggravation of not having his needs met instantly…he and the 2-year-old are very similar in that particular instance. She gets louder with anticipation and exhaustion when she has to wait.

While I, on the other hand, am quiet until I’m not…then I’m a royal pain. I want to see the world too, just not on the wunder-ground map. I want to see the whole thing, up close and personal.