Of course, "normal" is a subjective term. Everything with the Boy is defined by adventure. Like watching him run a race or throw a frisbee. He has the same level of coordination and muscle command as a Muppet, sans muppeteer. I've literally seen him fall over while just standing somewhere. No movement. Simply Thump.
And I suppose it isn't normal that our property, amongst others, was hit by a tornado on Sunday.
Not like super mega North Minneapolis-Tuscaloosa-Joplin HIT hit. Just grazed. But getting grazed by a tornado is, in my humble opinion, about as fun as getting grazed by a Great White shark. Nice to meet you, nature. Please swim away now.
I admit I've always been a storm junkie - watching the radar with giddy anticipation, hoping for Big Thunder, and historically I've been visibly disappointed when a storm drifts north or south of us. (truthfully, it's because my house could use new siding and I don't have any money other than my insurance policy to pay for it). When the sirens do blare for Anoka County, you could usually find me standing in the backyard watching for some good spinning action in the clouds. I've sent pictures to local news stations even. So dorky.
But no more. At least for a spell while my memory fades, I'll be joining the saner members of society in our collective basements and storm shelters.
I did take some pictures. Here's one:
In Boy news, he has just over a week to go before pre-school graduation and ensuing summer vacation. He really has no concept of this, even though we've tried to explain what "graduation" means and even though he has visited his new Kindergarten for next fall. I imagine him realizing sometime in August that he hasn't been to school in a while and asking when he's going back. We'll deal with the "never again" conversation then, I guess.