“There’s a Hurricane where we’re going,” I say to
Sarah and the girls staring at the weather forecast at the airport gate.
"WHAT?” Laurel, the 11 year old exclaims.
“Yep,” I continue. “Heavy rains, flooded roads,
parents tying their children to the tops of tree.”
“Why are we going to where there’s a Hurricane?”
Laurel, the 11 year old, is chronically afraid of
Hurricanes, storms, tsunamis, tornados, and bright sunny days.
The child frightens easily.
“May as well deal with it now,” I say as she stares
at me with wide disbelieving eyes.
The flights easy enough and everyone has a good time ... meaning slept because it was a late night and an early morning.
Then we land ... in tornetial rain and wind.
"Isn't this fun?" I scream above the noises of Mother Nature and the people trying to get us to take their vehicle in the Cancun airport.
A half an hour ride takes two hours!
Everything's flooded.
Laurel watches a saved movie on her phone refusing to acknowledge reality.
I hug Sarah, watch the flooding and drink a Cornona.
One of the great things about not being in America is you can drink beer in a moving vehicle (I wasn't driving ... it was a Canidian car from Mexico) ... and also in Grocery Stores ... which prolongs shopping ... which improves the economy ... just look at how far Mexico has come in the past few years ... while they United States is reclaiming Germany in the late 1930s.
But I digress.
Laurel loves the storm.
Everything's cool until she spies the three foot long Gekko with half it's tail cut off but growing back.
"Micheal please never bring one of those in our house," she says hugging me tightly.
"Laurel, it is time. You've mastered this Hurricane and it's time to move on to the next thing.
