I thought that my son was going to get his first named storm hitting our area of his lifetime, but alas we were stuck today and yesterday with basic, run-of-the-mill Tropical Depression 16. Not that I ever want a hurricane to come and hit anywhere near us, but... call it a desire to have something to add to my son's memory bank one day. See, I look at these blog entries not as a way to convey to the world what it's like to be a brand new Dad (even though they are), but rather as a collection of details both funny and meaningful to show to my son when he's old and capable of being totally embarassed in front of a date. I mean isn't that why we had kids in the first place? So that we can do to them what our parents did to us?
My first named storm wasn't until I was thirty years old. It went over this place like a quick thunderstorm. Of course, The Wife's father had us put the storm shutters up while the thing was hitting, which was a perfect time to do so if you ask me. I mean standing in ankle-deep water while a seventy-five mph wind was blowing and a gallon of water a second comes off the roof onto my head is exactly what I wanted to do on that lovely afternoon. What was The Wife doing while I was suffering through this hurricane? Standing under the shelter of the porch laughing at me. I love her. I really do.
Oh, forgot to tell you the name of that delightful baby hurricane. When it passed over South Florida, it was a Category 1. Unfortunately, it would grow once it hit the Gulf of Mexico. Katrina would be memorable, alright but not in a good way. The second named storm to hit my area of the world while I was living there was Wilma. Not good times. Lots of days without power and no hot water makes for one very unhappy me. However, one good thing to come out of the storm was our first trip to the Food and Wine Festival at Epcot in Orlando. That was good times!
So, The Son is still waiting for the first named storm to hit our area in his lifetime. I'm going to say a quick prayer that it is to hurricanes what playing the School for the Deaf and Blind is to football, a breeze. Until then, I'm debating showing him the joys of playing in rain puddles. That is until Mommy makes us come inside cause the street lights are coming on.
UPDATE: Yes, I know this piddling little storm was actually named (Nicole if you're scoring at home, which I know you are) but I've seen sun showers do more damage. So, no this will not be The Son's first named storm. You hear that? I said no! Don't make me pull this blog over.