You Spin Me Right Round Baby, Right Round.

"Alright, shhhh! Boys and girls...remember, single file. Okay. Now line up along the wall. Yes, that's it. Just like we practiced. Crouch down on your knees with your head next to the wall and put your hands over your necks. Good. Shhhhh. No, no. Don't worry about those sirens. That's just to tell us we should practice lining up in the hallway. It's just rain, honey. Well, yes, and thunder. Stay crouched. Of course, dear, yes there's lightning, too. But don't worry. You're safe here. Good, good. You guys are doing so good."

In first or second grade, while living in Little Rock, a line of storms moved through the area during the school day. We lined the hallways in our tornado-ready fetal positions for what, to a six- or seven-year-old, seemed like the entire day. Parents started arriving to pick their kids up early and, eventually, I too was thrilled by the sight of my mother. I'm sure I filled her ears with numerous questions on the drive home. Later that evening, (or at some other point in time as my mind might be blending memories) a tornado cut a swath of destruction through the forested area across the street from the school.

Around the same point in time (and, again, maybe the same storm system), I remember asking my parents about the thunderstorms bearing down on our house as the sirens' songs wafted through our neighborhood.

What's a tornado, daddy?
"Well, it's, basically, a super strong storm with super strong winds that can knock down trees and stuff."
How do you know when a tornado's coming?
"Usually the sky will turn green."
Oh. [runs to look out bedroom window] Hey, mommy! Daddy! You mean like that! [points out window at green clouds]
"Oh, my! In the bathtub now!"

Today, the skies were ripe for severe storms, making for a quick departure from work to begin the nerve-racking trip to pick up the kids as storms were popping up all around the area. I made it to the boys' preschool to see them wiping sleep-boogers [the great social equalizer] from their eyes as they rolled off their cots. We gathered their artistic masterpieces and rushed to pick up Mickey (TKNTD). Along the way I had to convince the boys that we should go straight inside and play in the basement, which is especially challenging for The Wubster who's first question for me each day at pick-up is, "You mow today, daddy? You need to mow?"

We made it to the basement before the rain started and as the kids played and we monitored the numerous warnings throughout the metro area, the only tornado we faced was the tornado of tantrums from overtired tykes.

My thoughts go out to everyone who hasn't been so fortunate this spring.