I am lying on my bed doing something I never did before, contemplating my navel. An inane late night t.v. comedy show starred two ladies I had never seen before. I didn’t think their discussing private things like inny and outy belly buttons was proper or funny. In forty years no such thought had entered my mind. Now, as lightning flashed between the metal Venetian slats, I looked at mine. Oy, I’m an inny! Is that good or bad? I started to call my friend Millie, but stopped dead when a brilliant flash of lightning seemed to crackle right outside my window. Stay off the phone, Dummy. Call Millie some other time.

I pulled the lightweight quilt over my head and shut my eyes tight. The storm raged. Rain changed to hail stones. They clanked, popped onto my windows, so happy, free, looking for mischief. But, I hexed them, aimed a threatening gun finger to the sky and became Merlin’s wife, ‘Out, out, out damn storm. Begone’. I did not succeed. After every lightning flash, thunder rolled like a barrage of Civil War cannons. Sleep was impossible I thought..

And...it was my last thought before I opened my eyes and saw the start of dawn. Bare traces of light rose behind the 10 condo buildings in my development. Across the parking area I saw a silver Lexus under a broken pine tree. Wet leaves hugged the cobblestones. My car was safely under cover. No one was outside yet. I put on old clothes, ratty shoes and went outside to investigate ‘whatever.’ I looked more closely at the damaged Lexus, then up to god, crossed myself and thanked him for selecting somebody else’s car to ruin.

Neighbors began to appear. We talked. I suggested who should contact management, get a crew out here fast to clean up and went inside. I fixed myself a large bowl of Wheaties with fresh strawberries, made a pot of caffeinated coffee, added a chocolate donut and ate beside the window, watching the progress.

Dawn became morning, bright and sunny. At exactly nine, Millie called. ‘Hi, Millie. You okay? Any damage?’ I asked. She had no trouble. My next question to her was, ‘Do you have an inny or an outy?’ Millie didn’t know what I was talking about and I had to explain. ‘Wait, I’ll look,’ she said. It took only long enough for me to take the last bite of my donut. ‘I’m not sure but think I’m an inny.’

‘Good, Mill. We can stay buddies. If you were an outy, one of us might have needed surgery. Meet me for lunch, noon, Jack’s. Bye’

My day was destined to be great, but to be sure, I made Millie go to the ladies’ rest room where I double checked her inny. We laughed and had our lunch.