When the Weather Jinx spoke, the sky awoke. Right on cue, it darkened to a mominous grey and threw down a spat of rain while it gathered its clouds to show what it could really do. “I sure hope this weather breaks soon,” the Jinx jinxed. 

I waited, but there was no rumbling and no tumbling. I waited some more, but still no Mom fell out of the Mom-return slot. I would have to step onto her landing strip if I wanted to look for her. I was just about to take a cautious step onto the runway when I heard a whoosh.

“He was also a bit of a bully. He used to say, ‘Speak softly and carry a big stick.’” “That sounds like excellent advice to me. Except how can you bark softly or any other way with a big stick in your mouth?”

“No, Mom! This is awesome!” I corrected her. “It’s better than awesome. It’s… There’s no word for how awesome it is in your language.” So I barked the word in my language and did a cartwheel followed by a sprint to show her what it meant. 

"Ack! Do you feel that?” Mom gasped. “The barometric pressure! I feel like I’m choking.”