Sometimes I have to wonder about my general apathy to dangerous situations. I remember when Benjamin was a baby, I somehow instinctively knew that he was the cautious type, so I never worried about him falling off of tables or other high surfaces...Yeah, I know I'm crazy. Paul also reminded me of my unnatural calmness as I debated whether to use baking powder or baking soda to put out a small kitchen fire this past Thanksgiving.
So we live in Tornado Alley now, and we hear sirens go off pretty frequently. If I were a better person, I'd of course rush my children into the basement each and every time, because you never know! A few months ago, the sirens were going, and I was raking like crazy because I knew that those leaves were going to sit there until Spring if I didn't. And where was my overly-cautious Benjamin? Inside, freaking out because we weren't in the basement.
And here's how things looked here last night around 11 p.m. I had just recently fallen asleep, so the sirens just became part of my loopy reality. Paul watched out the window as the wind whipped through trees then became deathly silent, and as the never-ending flashes of lightning would suddenly turn green, then fall into total blackout. Yeah, even I was a little scared. Not scared enough to do anything about it mind you, but I briefly thought about how it might be wise to get the kids out of bed and head to the basement.
I am a little too relaxed about some things. I am. And I need to fix that, if not for my sake then for my children's well being.
