A call interrupted our peaceful evening on Wednesday night. CT had decided to stay home from choir that night so we were all in bed watching some show we had DVRed. The call came from my mom, she was panicked as a huge storm was headed straight for us. This same storm had been producing tornadoes elsewhere, so it was a good time to call. So, reluctantly, we turn Super Nanny off and start watching a local channel. Well that confirmed it, yup, thats a storm alright!
The weatherman was warning everyone to stay inside and to get to somewhere safe. So, like all suburban white folk, CT heads outside. But it was okay, because so was our neighbor. I was finishing a brownie when the warning call was issued. "OK, that sounds like a train, lets get in a bathroom." Now, for all of you who have been to my house, and have peed in my downstairs bathroom, you understand. In a tiny, 4X4 half bath we crammed CT, myself, the baby who was fighting sleep anyway, and our very skittish deer-like dog.
CT decided, we need a radio in here. So I go get the radio from the garage. I also got: a flashlight, my baby pillow from upstairs, a toy for the baby, a treat for my dog, a cell phone AND the house phone, my grandmother's earrings, and, finally, the Lone Star I had been drinking. Then I realized, why am I the one who is going on a scavenger hunt while CT stays safe in the bathroom. Afterall, I am our son's FOOD SOURCE. Finally, after all things were collected, we sat, waiting for the roof to fly off, in a tiny, unairconditioned, bathroom.
It was then when we realized, we can't hear the TV and the radio isn't working. This was also around the same time that the hail started. We crept out of the bathroom to see if we could catch some news. The weatherman was saying to stay away from windows and to get to the bathroom. So of course, we run to the windows to see how big the hail was. Around this time, our neighbor ran across the street and is banging on our door to make sure we were inside and safe. Ponder the amazing logic of this man while I continue the story...
Well, the "train sound" got really loud, so we run back into the bathroom, grabbing a folding chair so I could sit on our way. Let me stop the story for a bit to explain something about me. When I get nervous, I get gassy. When I get very nervous, I poop. It's nature's way of weeding me out of the herd, because everything I have read says that fight or flight should make your bodily functions stop. Nervous Elimination may be hereditary because when the baby gets nervous, he throws up. Okay, back to the story. Too bad for CT, we didn't have a gas mask, because as I said before, it was a very small unventilated room and I was getting nervous, and uncomfortable. I said this much to CT, and he looked at me with a mixture of fear and nausea. "No way you are pooping with me sitting on a folding chair watching you. Go upstairs."
By that time, there was very big, very loud hail pounding on our roof and hammering on our windows. So, I am not stupid, I didn't go upstairs. I RAN upstairs. Thankfully, everything came out okay, and the storm lifted. We all learned something that day. Like, we need to have a storm kit. And that storm kit should include water, snacks, dog treats and a bigger bathroom.
2 comments:
Declan and I were driving home from choir INTO the tornado warning. We made it home before the hail. Our stinky dweller in our tiny room was a large nervous dog. Glad you are OK.
I am sitting here, dying of laughter.
Back when my son was much younger (older than Oliver, though) he and I were home alone with three cats when I decided that we needed to hunker down in the spare bathroom. Fortunately, the spare bathroom is evident a bit larger than yours, but not by much.
Son and I decide that it would be wrong to hunker down in there, leaving the cats to fend for themselves. So we spent 10 minutes trying to round up cats who did not wish to be rounded up. We were very fortunate that the tornado didn't touch down near us, as we would have still been rounding up cats if it had.
I actually worried the other night, as it was supposedly heading very close to us and I'm imagining gathering up seven foster kittens, 2 adult cats, and two kittens who are now family members. That's 11 felines in all, many of whom do not like one another, and one of them tends to live under the desk where he can't be reached. And then gathering this assembled brood in that same spare bathroom.
I think it might have been safer to go stand out on the lawn, myself.
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