So, the PalFam is moving; not far but moving is moving. MrsPal is burdened with most of the work of it, despite her recent illness. The house is a bit smaller than our current abode, which is just fine, since there’s only the three of us, and it’s much closer to PalKid’s school. The little one loves it and is excited to move into her new room. But she’ll have to give up having the dining room and living room as her own private playroom. That’s not happening at Casa Nueva Pal.
As I’ve mentioned before, PalKid isn’t too fond of tornadoes, or any other violent weather phenomena. When we went to look at the house, the woman showing us around said, “Really, you never hear any road noise. If it weren’t for the tornado siren right out back, it would be perfectly quiet.” (All this while MrsPal and I were frantically and futilely making “cut throat” signs behind Kiddo’s back.)
The sirens are tested the first Saturday of every month at 1 p.m. I tried convincing her that makes it even safer, since we’ll always hear the siren if it goes off. For the last test, we set an alarm on my phone, and when I came home from work, we hung out waiting for the siren. When it went off—nothing. No screaming, no hiding, no panic.
While we listened to the rising and falling wail, she looked at me and said, “Daddy, what if it’s the first Saturday of the month, and it’s one o’clock, and there really is a tornado?”