Sound asleep, tucked into our
dreams, until God marched in on
a thunderstorm.  Twin sister
would scream me awake with the
warning that it was getting

bad, along with the roar of
wind and rain.  We'd throw our arms
around each other and make
a siren sound -- who needed
a weather radio?  Mom

would come STOMPING up the stairs,
madder than anything.  'There's
nothing to fear,' she'd say, 'Go
back to sleep.'  (Easy for her
to say.)  This happened each time

it stormed at night.  Got to the
point when Mom would threaten to
throw us out into the storm.
Thought I'd outsmart her.  Would turn
on the bedroom light at the

first mutter of thunder -- no
problem!  (Didn't dawn on us
that the power could go out.)
That was fine, until Mom took
away our comfort.  Sewing

room bulb, closet bulb joined the
bedroom bulb.  During the day,
when skies turned black, we'd turn a
deeper shade of chicken.  Go
to the basement, but would send

the other up the stairs for
the latest weather report
on what it was doing.  Took
turns looking out all of
the windows, until Mom had

had ENOUGH.  And now that we're
grown, we put what we had learned
into practice by chasing
the storms (unless tornadoes
and hail are in the forecast ...
then we make a siren sound).