So I suppose after a day like yesterday, with all the damn tornadoes and cloud rotation and really really cool doppler radar I should've known it would happen.
At one point, I was standing outside - watch two groups of clouds meet and then swirl thinking NO NO NO NO NO and the husband pokes his head out and says "Hey they just said we've got rotation right here." and I said "Yeah it's right there."
It looked like this.
Anyway, I guess I should've known, after all those hours of watching the local radar and weathermen who were SALIVATING at their own personal weather drama, that at 5am I'd hear a little voice "MOM!"
The Husband went to comfort, but as always when he's scared, he wants Mom. (Personally I'd rather had Dad because he's big and tough but whatever.)
I went and tried to comfort but he was scared of something nameless, something that simply required he not be away from me. So we picked up his sleeping bag, his Thomas blanket, his Thomas QUILT made by Grandma and all his guys (doggy dog, Jamil Cesar the cabbage patch doll and Sophie the baby doll) and made him a spot right beside my bed.
But, based on his artwork this morning, I think I know the name of his fear.
It's hard to be five.