We had a storm the other night. It had rain and lightening and thunder and things. Maggie does not like rain and lightening and thunder and things. So she jumped up on our bed.
She's not allowed on our bed.
(Unless, apparently, as of very recently, we call her up.)
(That decision was all Jack. I was shocked.)
Anyway, she jumped up on the bed because she was afraid. And I'm not a jerk, so I didn't kick her off. I just cuddled her and rubbed her belly and tried to go back to sleep. But as soon as I stopped petting her, she started poking me with her little paw.
Poke. Wake up Mandy. Poke. I'm scared. Poke. Pet me some more. Poke. Didn't you know there's scary lightening out there? Pokepokepokepoke!!
"Maggie, go to sleep," I whispered to her. Jack stirred on his side of the bed.
"What's going on?" he asked groggily.
"Oh, Maggie's afraid of the storm," I said.
"It's raining again?" he asked. We had had a lot of rain in the last few weeks. "Ugggghhhhh."
"I thought rain was a good thing," I replied. "You know, because rain makes corn, corn makes whiskey..."
Jack giggled and then started to sing.
"Raiiiiin makes cooooorn. Corrrrn makes whiskaaayyy. Whiskey makes my baaybeee... feel a little friskeeeeee!"
He sang for a long time. I was tired the next day.
Evidently rain wasn't such a good thing.