Ok, I’ll admit. I’ve always been a scaredy-dog when it comes to thunderstorms. One rumble of thunder and I’m looking for the nearest armpit to wedge my face under. There’s just something downright unsafe about thunderstorms.
And this is one of the Very Best Things about having a brother who has, inexplicably, no fear of the thunders. The yoga ball, yes, he fears. The sound that a cork makes as it’s coming out of a bourbon bottle, scary. Yes. But thunderstorms? He doesn’t think so.
And this is great news for me, because his snuggly fearlessness makes me feel cozy and safe. Thanks, little Doodlebug. I guess you’re not so bad after all.