Our sweet girl

Eric went up to his gaming group tonight. Not long after he left he called me. We were in the middle of dinner, but since it was him I answered the phone. "There's a severe thunderstorm headed basically from Sylvania to Ann Arbor," he said, naming his route. "It should be an interesting drive." He said he'd text when he had safely finished riding the whirlwind and the storm.

"Come back, storm!" Chloë  said when I relayed this. "It would be better to make the lights go out here than follow my dad!"

Not long after she finished eating, and I sent her upstairs to wash her hands. As she often does, she stopped at the window on the stairs, looking out into the gloaming. "It's raining," she said. "It's pouring."

"Is the old man snoring?" I said.

"No. He's driving."