Forget coffee... there’s nothing like getting woken up at 4am with tornado sirens blaring causing me to scramble for clothes in case I’m sucked out and dropped in the streets in my, .. ahem... "delicates". After 24 years in the North Texas area I’ve become accustomed to hearing them this time of year, and while I’ve never actually seen a tornado, I don’t brush them off.
Last night was not a drill. We turned on the news and saw that there was circulation in our area. For you non tornado alley folks that's fancy weather talk for ominous clouds spawning tornadoes to unleash unholy hell on the landscape.
We scooped up the kids made our way to the center of the house in the kids’ bathroom, candles, flashlight, weather radio in hand, along with a couple of blankets and if needed the closest mattress in case we have to hide the bathtub while we wait to see if the equivalent of a freight train rattles through our house.
We’ve been through this a million times, twice in the past 2 weeks. But last week it occurred at 4 in the afternoon. Nighttime is an entirely different ballgame, you can't see it coming.
Thankfully it was only circulation, and much like Michael Vick’s football season last year, no touchdowns.
We were all back in bed 15 minutes later.
Mason of course was oblivious as to why Claire-Marie was crying (she’s deathly afraid of tornados and tends to panic) and why on earth we disturbed his slumber, forgetting that he was trying to climb in our bed only an hour before.
He’s not at the point that he’s going to understand the chaos that April and May bring to North Texas, not for a few more years I suspect.
I’m eager to hear how some of our other Autismspotters fared. I know after the rumbling storms shook us out of our beds, they quickly meandered in the general direction of Kent’s, Matt’s, and Jay’s cities.
It’s Mother Nature’s substitute for Starbucks.