I was expecting unfavorable weather this winter—where I live, snowfall is nonexistent, so whenever people here use the term “white Christmas,” I can only assume they’re referring to the celebrators—but I certainly wasn’t prepared for a TORNADO.
Yesterday, late 5ish
“I’m going out,” says Mom.
I don’t move from my seat in front of my laptop. “Okay.” Then again, I probably couldn’t move if I tried; at this point, the chair is pretty much an extension of my butt.
“… Have fun,” I offer a minute later, after having noticed she hasn’t yet left.
“Are you not hungry?”
Mom sighs. “Have fun fasting. One of these days, you’ll become a saint.”
“Is that how it works?”
Belatedly, I realize that the sounds I’m hearing aren’t from my cat’s indigestion but from the tornado sirens blaring outside.
There’s a tornado, I text Mom helpfully, contenting myself with the knowledge that, at least, I’m smart enough to always avoid going outside. It’s a dangerous world out there.
I resist the urge to rub it in and add so how much fun are you having now and start Googling “how to survive tornado if no basement” and “can you use computer when tornado.”
Mom bursts through the door. “That was the scariest experience of my life! The lightning—it was—and the—”
Midway through her longwinded account involving reenactments of lightning bolts struck down by a vengeful god (or winded mom), I have not yet heard the actual tornado mentioned. “But you didn’t see it, did you?”
“What? No. But I think it might have been a second tornado, because there’s no way that first tornado could’ve gotten there so fast.”
I am about to inform her that tornados can move pretty quickly when they’re in the mood when a thought strikes me. “Wait, first tornado? You knew there was a tornado before you went out and you still went out anyway?”
“It wasn’t that close,” she waves a hand.
I attribute this disturbing response to our generation gap. “But you just—”
“Anyway,” she continues. “While I was stuck in that awful traffic, I got to thinking: could you go on without me? If something happened. What would you do? How will you know how to survive?”
I think about this, and the answer comes readily. “Google everything, probably. It’s worked pretty well for me so far.”
**Note: If you were hoping for a more Christmas-y post, sorry. This year’s, unlike the last one, was uneventful.