Tornado Kit: Are you prepared?

             In Tornado Alley, you need a Tornado Kit.

Tornado watches and warnings are not to be discounted. Perhaps it was my mother who ingrained in me a healthy fear of tornadoes, but whoever is responsible, I’m grateful. We once ran around opening windows on the southwest side of the house. The space under the house was for protection from bad storms even though it had spiders and their webs everywhere. Balancing the danger, I’d crawl inside, my mother kicking my behind all the way.

Plenty of near misses have cemented a healthy fear. Stories of chimney bricks in the bathtub, green and purple skies, temperature differentiation from hot to cold on either side of the building where I sat, a tornado paralleling Walnut Grove Road. I’ve had my share of scares.

            I’ve always known where I’d go when I heard a tornado coming for me, the sound said to be unmistakable. I’ve sat in the bathroom at Burger King with girlfriends, I've huddled with babies and dogs, ready to jump into my own bathtub with zillions of pillows. I don’t want to see cows fly past me or wake up in a tree, or worse.

            In our 1970s ranch-style house where we currently live, there are few rooms without external windows. I’ve determined my personal hidey-hole, because it’s every man/woman for him/herself in a tornado warning. I also have a tornado kit.

            The kit contains “sensible shoes,” a weather jacket, a bottle of Desani, and my purse.

            Do I need anything more?