We're having a good summer thunderstorm here in Northfield, and while I welcome the chance to blunt our tropical humidity, I'm also annoyed at those damn clouds for waking Julia up - twice so far, and counting. Both times, she's gone back to sleep easily after I sang her a few songs (non-offspring are usually so repelled by my vocal stylings as to be unable to sleep for days).
The second anti-thunder intervention was the more elaborate. Going into her room, I told her that the thunder is just telling us that the rain is watering our plants so we don't have to water them tomorrow. "The thunder is sending rain to make our plants all green." She whispered sleepily, "Making pants all geen..." Then she asked me to sing a song, so I crooned the "Teddy Bear's Picnic" song (rewritten in our house to feature Pinky Bear, a beloved "friend"). Sensing me getting ready to leave, she whispered, "Hode my hand" and patted around to find my index finger, which she then held very gently for a few minutes before falling back to sleep. Rain, rain, go away, indeed.