We had some major thunderstorms in our area last night, a situation I always dread because Anna Marie has developed an irrational fear of them.
Inevitably, she ends up in my bed.
I tried to dissuade her last night, because I was tired, and today is a deadline day, and I really did want to actually get some sleep.
She was especially concerned last night, and asked me odd questions like "Did Gramma's mom ever get in a Tornado?" No, I don't think so. "Did you ever meet Gramma's mom?" Yes, she didn't die until after I was married! "Was Papa ever in a tornado?"
(I think that one of the kids in her class has told her that he's been through three, which, at his young age, is highly unlikely unless he lives in a trailer park in Arkansas.)
(Not that there's anything wrong with that, mind you. I'm just sayin.)
So, seeing as how I've taught her that we need to go to God with our concerns in prayer, she asked me to pray that "the rain would come down slowly and the thunder would stop."
So, I did.
Apparently, she wasn't satisfied with the results of my prayers, though, because the next time the thunder crashed, she cried out:
"WHEN IS HE GOING TO START LISTENING TO YOU?"