Irony means saying the opposite of what is meant, or doing the opposite of what is intended.
As I write, thunder rolls across the sky like a symphony of kettle drums, the sky is dark as twilight, and rain falls in gigantic slow-motion droplets. If this were a romance novel, the stage would pull up shortly to the haunted mansion, discharging the hero and heroine, who are about to face their nemesis.
But it’s suburbia and the duck in the pond is swimming about, scarfing up duckweed, the neighbor’s chickens are looking to see if my feral stray cat that I’m calling Danny Boy has left a tasty morsel in his dish, and the mail lady just left me an unexpected package with a Mother’s Day gift in it.
That’s irony for you, and not always what you expect it to be.