Tornadoes

On the Missouri side, my mom rarely acknowledged storms. On the Kansas side–in a trailer park, no less–we sometimes turned up the TV in order to drown out the noise of sirens. Part of my mother’s family has lived in Missouri since the 1830’s and part of my father’s has lived in Kansas since at least the 1900’s. I guess something about drinking all that Midwest water is that you grow up inured to the danger of tornadoes.

My heart breaks for the people of Joplin. As much as I doubt a tornado would ever whip its way into the heat-sink surrounding Kansas City, I know that if it did, I might be one of those people who didn’t heed the sirens, who didn’t want to go down to the litter-box smelling basement to wait for the threat to pass. Of course, I have children now, so if the sirens went off and the weather people said to take shelter, I (grudgingly) would.

I’m praying for the people in Joplin and in Oklahoma. And I’m cleaning the litter in the basement, just in case.

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