My legs are tired

Why are my legs tired, you ask? Because my husband has just about worn me out what with all the severe weather in our neck of the woods yesterday.

I woke up yesterday morning to him hollering, "Hey, dingaling! You left the windows down in your van!" Agh! I never do that! I blame it on the week I had had. I got up and staggered around the living room looking for my purse until he finally grabbed his keys off the hook and dashed out into the yard to rescue the van's interior. In his underwear. Thank God we live in the country. In the meantime both of our phones chirped and when I grabbed mine to see who the text was from I realized it was from TWC. We had just gone under a severe thunderstorm warning. He came back in the house, wet, half-naked and cranky, I gave him the news and he said, "Get the kids, we're going underground."

Now, I'm glad we have the cellar and all, but......um.....I kind of thought we'd go running for it when we actually saw a twister or had confirmation of the existence of one in our vicinity. Nope, not in my darling husband's mind. According to him, we have it, therefore we must use it. A lot.

Because it was dark and rainy, the girls were both still asleep. I told Sam to turn off the Wii (the child gets up like, crazy early because he's weird) and get his shoes on while I went back to wake up the girls. Kady declared her unhappiness about having to get up and said she didn't care about a stupid tornado (that technically didn't even exist) as she pulled her Strawberry Shortcake blanket over her head. Abby sat up, rolled her eyes and flopped back down as well. Eventually I managed to get them up, dressed and into the living room. I finally found my purse, stuffed my laptop into its case and followed my family outside to the cellar for our First Full-Family Frezied Fiesta in the 'Fraidy Hole.

Those of you who follow me on Twitter were probably aware of the underground adventure because what else you gonna do when you're stuck in a concrete cellar but send text messages to your friends and complete strangers? Well, other than ignore the children fighting right under your nose, that is.

We did get some hail, albeit the size of small peas, but still it was enough to make Paul completely feel our run was justified. He thought it was great fun; the kids even enjoyed it. I, however, had just been rudely awakened and hadn't had any breakfast and would've given like, ten bucks for a bagel at that point. We were in the cellar for about 45 minutes and let me tell ya, by the end of that 45 minutes I'd had all the family togetherness I could handle. It was muggy, everyone had morning breath and did I mention I was hungry?

The icing on the cake was when Paul had finally declared it safe to exit our underground haven and as we all stood up, he farted. And refused to open the door while he laughed like the maniac redneck he is.

And you all wonder why I am the way I am. And why there is always beer in my fridge.