The storm

Its morning. Its storming. That means I have no personal space. I am a planet of cowering dog and squealing girl. We are not a fan of the thunder in this house. The last few thunderstorms have been at night, and I am grateful at least that this one wasn't. The girls sleep through thunder storms, but Tamayo does not. He alternates between shaking and panting standing on my head to huffing in my face from the floor, to going into the bathroom and rearranging the rug. I get pissed that dogs are keeping me awake- which does nothing for dog neurosis.

I wish I had enough arms to take a picture, and am limited in enough hands to keep typing- I have S in my lap, Ruby trembling at my feet, and arm around H who is trying to climb in my lap, and Tamayo on the other side of me also trying to climb into my lap.

Its sweet, actually, when H yells from the thunder claps, Tamayo tries to reassure her- Tamayo who is the most scared. And who is now trying to stand on the table.

We'll be braving the storm soon to go to school. Why is it I keep the umbrellas in the car?