Tornado Alley

It is tornado season here on the plains. Last night we knew severe weather was coming, but it was still a shock at 2AM when we woke up to the thunder shaking the house. We checked the radar on my computer (no TV here) and basically the rotation (there was already a tornado warning) was about a half-mile from our home. Very exciting stuff.

The boys came bursting into the closet with me ready for the worst. Sam was upset that we weren't serving chocolate milk at our "picnic" on the floor, and Tate reminded me -- AGAIN -- that we have chosen of our own free will to live in notorious "Tornado Alley." He announced -- again -- that he will be moving a.s.a.p. to a safer part of the country, but that we are welcome to visit anytime.

After seeing that pouting for chocolate milk was getting him nowhere, Sam curled up under my "spring skirts" section and promptly fell asleep. Tate then continued his lecture on severe weather and complained that he could barely hear the computer's warnings over the ridiculously loud hail pounding the ceiling. We turned it up. After a while, the radio switched to the storm chasers' reports: "Live from highway 75, we are driving north and can see the wall cloud descending....." This was more than my rational son could bear. "OH! So now they are driving INTO the tornado's path. Brilliant! This is so ridiculous. WHY oh WHY do we live here?!" Of course as you have guessed, no tornadoes touched down anywhere, or I certainly wouldn't be making light of it. Tate protested our love of Spring storms by not participating in hail-collecting, lightning-watching, or carpet-sopping-up (little leaks in the roof). I think we'll try to help him sleep through the next tornado warning.