We had a bit of excitement at Newmentia today. Just three minutes before the final bell, Mr. Principal announced that we were under a tornado warning, and to proceed to our designated areas and take cover immediately. Which was done in two nanoseconds. Or thereabouts.
Then we suddenly switched gears and trekked posthaste to a new venue. KUDOS to the man behind this decision. I have long felt unprotected in the designated hallway area. Underground is where we belong, even at the risk of taking two more minutes to filter through the two bottlenecks that take us there. A little fine-tuning as to which classes stay left, which classes stay right, and we'll have a quadruple line moving toward our hidey-hole with more precision than ants crashing a picnic.
Deep underground, I breathed a sigh of relief. I was reunited with my teaching buddy, Mabel. We've got to stop meeting like that. I'm not sure what I heard, but something crashed, something boomed, and then Mr. Principal appeared and explained that a tornado had been spotted 20 miles to our west, and that until the tornado warning was lifted, nobody would be leaving school. Somebody with a cell phone told me that rotation had been spotted over Newmentia City.
After the all clear, student drivers were dismissed, followed by bus riders, followed by everyone else, followed by teachers. I told the #1 son to drive straight home, gathered The Pony as soon as he arrived from Basementia, and hit the road. By the time we were halfway there, a new tornado warning had been issued.
We made it to the Mansion without incident, watched some news radar, and hit the basement safe room. By 5:30, the dangerous part of the storm had passed.
All is well.