Now, in the interests of redressing the balance following my miserable gloom of last week-end, I’m going to tell you about something that I really like about here. Thunderstorms. We’ve had a couple of humdingers this week. The good thing is, it won’t be long before the next one. Not that they’re really frequent, but frequent is a relative thing. Think about it if you’re reading this in Britain. When was the last time you had a good thunderstorm? And the time before that? See. Hardly ever. And how long did they last? A measly 20 minutes? Here they rumble around for hours.
Thunderstorms here are magnificent. The thunder rolls and booms and cracks. The lightning flashes just like in movies, or when children fiddle with the light switch. Light, dark, light, dark, light, dark. We get that proper forked lightning too. Lots of it. Like the finger of a divine being: “You, yes, you, Iota Manhattan, this one is for YOU”. And zap! You can see it crackling its way down to the intended spot. Actually, I shouldn’t joke, as lightning strikes do account for deaths and injuries here, and it is treated with respect. I’m told you shouldn’t be on the phone or use the computer during a lightning storm, (although there are those of us who will risk personal safety for the sake of our blog readers). People feel uneasy about being outside. Outdoor pools are closed if there is a threat of lightning, and this morning’s preschool trip to the pumpkin patch was cancelled. The words ‘rain’ and ‘mud’ were mentioned, but lightning was given as the reason.
Thunderstorms can hog the stage and perform on their own, without it raining, which I find very exciting. Of course they do bring rain too. Proper rain. Torrents of the stuff, lasting for ages. You get veritable rivers running down the sides of the roads, and the drainpipes flow like taps. Proper rain. Not that drizzle that passes for precipitation in the UK. Over there on the eastern side of the Atlantic, you’re really quite pansy-ass when it comes to a good storm. Bigger and wetter, that’s the style here. Something else I like about rain here is that it doesn’t have to be cold. We’re not talking tropical conditions like the monsoons or anything, but certainly, you can have a warm day that doesn’t turn cold just because the rain has come. I like that. Why should rain always equal cold? Huh? Here, you can be out in the rain in your flip-flops (remember this detail, it becomes significant later on).
So thunderstorms are good. And today it turned out that lollies in banks are good too. Lollies in banks. Usually I hate lollies in banks. Does my child really need a sugar fix just because I’ve paid in a cheque? “Don’t waste your money” I always want to say. “Lollies are not necessary. What else are you frittering away my cash on? Stop the lollies and lower your overdraft charges.” But today, nothing to do with the very satisfying thunderstorm, at least I don’t think so, although you never know how these things tie up in some cosmic realm, I even found a purpose for lollies in banks.
I was going to the bank after school pick-up (why?), so I had three children with me. One, the smallest, was running about in a wild fashion that in Britain would have made me feel rather self-conscious, but here, doesn’t make me feel quite so bad, as they seem a bit more relaxed about noisy children (oh look, did you spot that? Another nice thing about America has sneaked in. I could run a Spot the Nice American Thing competition at this rate. By the way, did you notice the word ‘pansy-ass’ a few paragraphs ago. That’s another. I didn’t know that word a year ago.) Anyway, she was running up and down, with the Burt’s Bees lip salve (oh, there’s another one) she’d stolen out of my handbag, saying “guess where I’ve put lipstick, I’ve put it all over everywhere” and giggling hysterically. This might have embarrassed me, but I knew that (a) she was talking about her own body, as evidenced by the hoiking up of her t-shirt to display her belly button which I could imagine is a pretty tempting target for a lip salve when you are 3 years old, (b) she was laughing so raucously that I knew no-one else would be able to understand a word she was saying and (c) lip salve is clear so that if there had been some collateral damage on the furniture and fittings that I hadn’t witnessed, we’d be long gone by the time it was discovered.
It happened. She tripped over her flip-flops (hah! remember?), her pink bejeweled flip-flops, measured her length and landed on her front, the fall accompanied by a dull 'bop' sound as her little forehead hit the bank floor, since her hands were too busy clutching the lip salve and its lid to be any use in saving her. There was much yelling and sobbing, which continued for a while. Then a while longer. Then, after a pause which only the most heartless of mothers would interpret as resulting from a quick assessment of the size and interest-level of the audience (both satisfactory), a while longer. At this point, the helpful bank lady started talking about ice packs and cold water (more yelling, louder yelling), and I could feel the situation was getting out of hand. So I put aside my pride, and there on my knees in that Bank of America, I uttered some words which I never thought I would utter in a bank. I asked “Do you have any lollies here?”
I suppose I should be honest, and tell you that actually I was rather inarticulate at this point. Kneeling on the floor, arms round yelling child, hands fumbling with lip salve and lid, I was struggling for the right word. I was hesitating to say “Do you have any suckers here?” which is what kids call lollies. It didn’t seem a very appropriate turn of phrase for use in a high street bank. So I started with ‘popsicles’, which I knew was wrong as soon as I’d said it (they’re the frozen ones), and quickly diverted to ‘lollies’ (not right either), which I tried to segue into ‘lollipops’, but I fear I produced some burbling sound somewhere between the three attempts. The nice bank lady understood me though, and of course the end of the story is that they did indeed have lollies there. They had a particularly nice pink and purple stripy one (you see why I wonder about cosmic realms), and all was well. The boys managed to sneak one each too.
Thunderstorms. Lollies in banks. Reasons to be cheerful: Part I.
Ouch! I'm sure she has quite the 'goose egg' from that fall - a term I had never heard before moving here, but entirely appropriate in those very circumstances because that's exactly what it looks like!
ReplyDeleteAnd, as I have noticed, EVERYTHING, is bigger in America - including me at the rate I'm going!
Thunderstorms in your neck of the woods are particularly spectacular. It really depends on where you live how violent and showy they are. Where I am, they are still pretty wonderful, but not quite what you get up there.
ReplyDeleteHope the little one's head is doing better.
Children and banks never mix but lollypops is a great idea! I agree, you can't beat a good thunderstorm (unless it's taking the roof off your house I suppose!)
ReplyDeleteOh, God, I'm picturing the exact same scene happening in my local Barclays branch and I just want to curl up and die. Thunderstorms are impressive, lollies in banks grand, Burt's Bees products divine and the word "pansy-ass" as satisfying as they come. But the American "kids will be kids" philosophy? Now THAT is a reason to be cheerful about life in the U.S. of A... ;)
ReplyDeleteHi Iota, your description of a good midwestern thunder storm made me so homesick! To me, there's nothing so beautiful as that wide expanse of sky lit up by lightening. Since I moved to Norway, I have heard just one faint clap of thunder...pansy-ass indeed! Emily
ReplyDeleteI do miss thunderstorms. We had one this year but it only lasted about half an hour. Pretty pathetic.
ReplyDeletehow wonderful of you to love thunderstorms. i love them, too, even though they terrifiy my dog.
ReplyDeletemy family is weird that way--when severe thunderstorms rumble through, most people hide in the basement. we used to go outside and play.
people thought our parents were trying to get us electrocuted, which perhaps is true. (there were so many of us, you know.)
i hope her head is better. and i'm glad the bank woman knew a lollie was really a sucker.
and that she had some.
The only way I can get my tyke to get anywhere near the bank is with the promise of a lolly. I hope your daughter's boo boo is better.
ReplyDeleteI love drinking a glass of hot tea or wine & watching thunderstorms roll in.
I beg your pardon. Did you just say "pansy ass"?? Welcome to America! I've got lots of others I could teach you, but probably shouldn't. One of these days you may want to put on your civilized front, and I'm afraid I might tarnish that. But pansy ass is an excellent start.
ReplyDeleteWe've also had the storms and I adore them. These don't exist in California either, which makes them even more special.
And I'm not sure about you, but we're in for another round today. Whee!!
Chocolate lollies rule OK. At least, until you get them on the car seat, your jacket, the kid's clothes (that goes without saying though), the carpet, the sofa, your mum's curtains.
ReplyDeleteMust convert to high sugar sweetie versions.
Oh how I miss thunderstorms! It brings back fond memories of sitting on the front porch with my gran and watching the sky unravel.
ReplyDeleteLollipops do tend to make most kids feel better. And I confess to giving in to the lollipop at the bank routine.
ReplyDeleteAs for thunderstorms, I don't mind them too much. It's the tornados that come with them that I mind. Having lived inteh midwest and parts of the south where they're common...I'll pass.
Hiya Iota; I'm sorry you've been blue. Hope life looking up. I agree - thunderstorms are magical. I woke to a corker of one last night, rain crashing down. Music to my ears. Got up this morning to a world that smelled shiny and brand new. And no dust. Hooray.
ReplyDeleteOuch! I fell in flip flops when I was little so refuse to let my girls wear them.
ReplyDeleteI had to visit after reading your comment on Stay at Home Dad, how you wrote it is just so, so funny.
They call lollies sucettes over here - the French are big on child bribery too!
ReplyDeleteThe thunderstorms in the pyrenees are loud and spectacular. Sometimes on a quiet night if you go outside, the light will be flickering on and off and there will be rumbling in the distance - but no rain. It can go on like that for hours. I can't bear strong wind though - that frightens me.
Mya x
Oh, dear! Sorry to hear of this mishap in the bank, though hat off to you, Iota, for some quick thinking with the lollies/suckers. Shame about the pre-school pumpkin patch visit being off too. Are you secretly in league with AMcS? The bank visit sounded like it might lead to the discovery of skulduggery, accompanied by loud peals of thunder. Perhaps AMcS by way of Raymond Chandler.
ReplyDeleteCongratulations, by the way, on the magazine article. I meant to say so in a comment on your earlier posting. Great news. Everything happens for a reason. Perhaps you're meant to be where you are for reasons you are only now glimpsing, or yet to see. Forgive all these cliches, but I'm pleased for you, dear bloggie friend.