Tornado

This picture pretty much says it all. Spring in Oklahoma means tornado weather

and we stay prepared...well, most of the time anyway.

I remember a time when our three kids were young and it became one of those "dark and stormy nights" that Snoopy talks about. Then the tornado alert sounded and it was time to get serious about going to the shelter which was the underground elementary school about a block from our house.

I wasn't sure about the laws of child endangerment. Could the DHS come and take all three of them away from me if they found out I hadn't protected the little darlin's by takin' them to the shelter? I wasn't takin' a chance like that because my taxes had not been filed and I wasn't about to give up three deductions.

So I woke them all up from a dead sleep, made them get dressed and put on shoes. Of course we did have to get six stuffed animals for the girls and my son's hamster because it would have been the end of the world if they'd gotten blown away. Getting them all to the car was another trick since it had started to rain cats and dogs and baby elephants by then.

And that's when I realized I wasn't dressed. So it was a quick run between the raindrops back to the house to grab a robe. I sure didn't have time to get dressed and find shoes--no sir, that black cloud coming toward us meant business. So I slung my faded green robe over my pajamas which used to be purple but now were a washed out gray.

As I settled into my seat, Mr. B realized he'd forgotten his camera and it would be an unpardonable sin if he didn't get a picture of the tornado to send back to Pennsylvania to his brother. While he made a mad dash into the house to get the camera, I fastened my robe together with a couple of leftover diaper pins. The buttons had fallen off years ago but the pink ducky diaper pins kept me from being arrested for indecent exposure. (NOTE: My pajama top had a couple of holes in the chest area)

Finally, we were off to the shelter. Of course everyone in half the town of Davis had already arrived. Apparently, they didn't have to take along hamsters and stuffed Minnie Mouse, Goofy and Donald or a husband who had to have his camera. That meant the parking lot was full and we had to run in the rain for about half a block...did I mention that I didn't think to put on shoes?

We barely got into the cramped space when the all clear whistle blew. But, dear hearts, it was not before everyone in town saw my green robe pinned together with pink ducky pins or notice that I was barefoot. I shrugged and told them I was doing research and they all nodded--but I don't think the crowd of women with perfect makeup and wearing cute little hot pink yoga outfits believed me.

Mr. B was disappointed that he hadn't gotten to take a picture of the tornado. The kids simply went back to sleep when we got home. And me, well, I had a nice little funeral for my green robe. It had been with me through the birthin' of three kids and lots of good books read well into the night. It deserved a tombstone but our tax return wasn't big enough to buy one for it.

I invested in a fancy chenille robe with a zipper and some of those rubber shoes that you just slip your feet inside. And wouldn't you know it, the robe faded and one of the shoes got lost before we heard the sirens blowing again. But now the kids are grown and I don't have to worry about the DHS so when the tornado alert sounds, all I have to do is locate Mr. B's camera and light the oil lamps in case the electricity goes out.