Strong storms arrived in our neighborhood late this afternoon, accompanied by the always worrisome sound of the county tornado-warning sirens. When I got home, H was away at a class, and the house was extremely quiet. The sky had taken on that yellow, pre-tornado look, and the rain poured down. As the cracks of thunder kept getting louder, I found myself planning for the worst:
1. Check on my mother-in-law. Find the portable oxygen tank and prepare to fill it on short notice.
2. Locate the cat carrier, remembering not to tell P the cat that he is #2 on the list.
3. Determine how to fit all of the following into our small, centrally located guest bathroom: H’s mom (with oxygen), P (with food, water, litter box), me, and hopefully H (as soon as he gets home).
4. Change my clothes into something more comfortable in case the house blows away.
In reality, the best I was able to do was to slip into looser jeans (see #4) and consume a package of Girl Scout cookies. I’m glad the storm wasn’t any worse than it was.
I'm glad too! Especially after eating the girl scout cookies-sounds like it would have been a tight enough fit in that bathroom before the cookies!! Who knows who or what would have had to crouch on the floor outside the bathroom! HaHa!!
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