You can thank me now and later

It rained today. It rained in Oklahoma. People were standing outside gawking, asking, "what's that noise?" as the thunder rolled. People were told to go inside, away from the lightening, but still they stood under the dark clouds, heads tipped back, mouths open.

And it's all because of me. Because I was sick to death of 110 degree heat, the A/C running non-stop, all my energy sapped like a bug in a bug zapper. Wait. Maybe. I promise you, if we had stayed inside again today, it would have been another record setting, scorching, dry-up-the-horny-toads kind of day.

And because I was so sick of this non-stop round-the-clock sauna in which I live, I coughed up the big bucks to take The Whee and a friend to the local big water park. It ain't cheap, but it has a lot of water. At this point I was willing to pay big bucks for big water.

And three hours into it, after almost four straight weeks of heat and drought, as we were enjoying the first outside activity we braved all summer, the lightening cracked. The clouds swelled. The cold rain shot down. And we stood out in it, rejoicing. And proud, because we were quite sure that our venture into the outdoors, our only water park day of the entire summer, had brought on the fabulous drop in temperature, the delicious dribble down our faces.

You can thank me later. Preferably with chocolate not melted by the heat.