Hail

I have five minutes to write this, so here goes!
Ephraim and I have been tearing up the kitchen floor today and yesterday. The first layer was thin strand-board (I just learned that it's not plywood, and I think that's the correct word). Ephraim would always break it off, and I would always try and get it up whole, which I always managed to do with some time. We both disagree as to which way is more time-efficient (I think that my way is better because once you rip the edge, it's hard to use the crowbar without just making a useless tear down the middle. It's hard to explain.) On the next part, where we had to take all the rotten wood away from the holes, he said,
"I'm glad I have you."
"That's a nice thing to say." I said. "Why?"
"Because of that." He motioned toward the crumbling wood I was removing and piling in a bucket. Well, at least he finally said something nice about "having me along". My badness, sometimes he gets on my nerves by letting things get on his nerves! Oh well.

It was raining with hailstones as large as a newborn's fist! And pouring so mightily!
I read texts Ephraim had sent to Papa.
"It's raining."
"And the hailstones are as big as raspberries." Giant genetically modified ones.
"Havilah's trying to get soaked and struck by lightening." I exclaimed, "What?!" As I read that. All I'd done was take a little walk! Well, I did dance a little. And laugh strangely. And splash. And I did get completely soaked.
"That sounds like Havilah." Papa answered.
Agh.
The End!