The Sirens

The adults were seriously outnumbered by the sixers on the deck this Friday. About a dozen of #1's friends popped in after school. After they scarfed some snacks, they went out to play football in the back yard while I stood on the deck and yelled at them about roughness and fair play. The sky turned dark quite suddenly and the tornado sirens sounded, breaking up their mud accumulation. With our own family, I confess to being lax about the sirens. We check out the tv and the weather channel and talk at length about whether or not a trip down to the basement is really merited. But since I had a dozen kids here, I thought I should send them down that way. Their parents would probably get fairly ticked off if we were wiped out due to ignorance and neglect. The adults stayed deckside wondering about the meanings of the sirens. How long should the kids be in the basement? Should we bring them food and drink? We searched the skies for sign of any tornadoes coming our way. One member of the party reassured us that they only go about 30 mph, so we'd have some time to find cover if we did sight one. We talked about the sound in the distance that did slightly resemble a train. But then we discussed whether the train sound tornado victims describe is a steady chugging along the track, or a sudden whoosh of the train roaring past? In the meantime, the kiddos had left the basement and were watching Zoolander. Soon it was time for #1 son and his pals to head across the street to the school carnival. Adults stayed behind to eat cake. When the sirens sounded again, we were relieved to know that the kids were safely at school, with other adults looking after their welfare. It takes a village, as anyone can tell you.