Just as I was getting ready to sing a really special rendition of "Poor, Poor, Pitiful Me," I got a call from my mom. The roof had been blown off of the home of my youngest sister. She was at home last night when the windows started shuddering in their frames, and as she ran into the living room toward her husband, the windows in the house blew out and the power went out. They both hit the floor, and thankfully they were okay as the roof was subsequently peeled off the house. It's also a good thing they didn't make it to the basement- the ceiling to the stairwell collapsed. After all that, they couldn't get out of the house right away because of the live power lines down around the house. They're not sure if all this was due to a tornado or the 80 mile-per-hour straight line winds. Oh, and did I mention she's 29 weeks pregnant?
Shortly thereafter, my other sister and her husband headed over to help out- you know, the one that's due with their baby any day now and has been put on bed rest? Yeah, them.
After hearing all this, my mom asked, "So how are you doing?"
I thought about our leaky ceiling, sleepless night, and all the other little bothers that build up in every day life. Then I thought about our intact house, my intact sisters, and how thankful I am I'm not pregnant right now.
I gave her the only answer I could.
Update: It official: it was a tornado. Twisted tree trunks don't lie.