Mom told me to stop playing
with my food. I kept making
towering Cu with them, with
backsheared anvils and
overshooting tops. Weather
was fixing to get bad. Then
it started hailing when I took
the ice out of my glass and
shot it at my annoying little
brother with my spoon. Did
not mean to pop Dad in the
eye --- that was when he
thundered, 'ENOUGH. Go
to your room.' I stomped
up the stairs, decided that
a bath was in order, if only
to watch the tornado in the
drain: 'IT'S AN F - 5!!!' Dad
issued the warning from
the kitchen: 'GO. TO. BED.'
Dried off, got under the
covers, began flicking the
lamp switch on and off ---
lightning, you know. That's
when the power went off:
Dad again. He took every
bulb from every light. Guess
I'll have to dream storms,
since it's dark. Some don't
appreciate meteorology ...
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