Acts of God

So I had a hurricane named after me. (At least, that's how I like to see it.) I had high hopes for my natural disaster namesake, but it didn't amount to much. Is it wrong to be disappointed? Is it sick that I'm jealous of the Deans out there who are getting to watch their gathering drama? Probably. I missed the 'big one' by one slot. If only mother nature would've mustered up all her fury while 'ERIN' sat ready on the national weather service's roster of names. Sigh.

My favorite dream of having a hurricane namesake was that people would actually listen to me. Like "ooooh, Erin is talking...watch out or she'll unleash her fury!" Maybe even my children? Not gonna happen. Sigh. You'll understand when it happens to you.

Did I mention 'sigh?'

oooh! Perfect segue into the cute story I've been meaning to record for posterity:

Last week, we're driving home in the car and Shnookie4 (that's what I'll call my youngest child for now until I get over worrying that someone will read this and stalk her) asks from the back: "Mom, how are tornados made? Is it when it's windy and someone throws dirt into the air and that makes a tornado?"

Hmmmm. My thoughtful answer: "Well, no, nature makes the tornados, but I'm not sure how it all actually happens." (Telling myself that of course I really know, but there's no way a 7-yr-old could understand my flawless scientific explanation. Yeah, right.)

Her immediate response: "If you don't really know, then maybe that IS how it happens."

She has a point, you have to admit.