When you live in a town that was actually HIT by a tornado before, you never really look at them the same again. When the sirens go off you tend to actually go to the basement like you’re supposed to. Unless you’re me. Don’t get me wrong, I meant to go to the basement, I planned to go to the basement, I wanted to go to the basement. Instead, based on my lousy timing, I was driving through the downtown area at the precise moment the tornado was predicted to be there. I must’ve looked like a complete maniac, driving while watching the skies for tornadoes, but since everyone else on the road was doing the same thing, I guess it didn’t matter.
The kids were all on “lock down” at the school, which makes me cry just thinking about it, and I was frantically trying to get to them. Except I couldn’t. “Lock down” actually does mean just that. No one gets in, no one gets out. So I had to scrap that idea and instead head for home to be with the animals.
I was obsessively calling the kids and texting them, trying to be sure that they were ok. I expected tears, confusion, fear, something. Instead I got “I’m hungry. What’s for dinner?” Seriously? I also got a description of how bad it smelled where they were (boys bathroom) and how dark it was.
So what’s a Mom to do? Order pizza. Happy ending for all.
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