I just spent a good twenty minutes huddled in the bottom of a stairwell with my co-workers, listening to the not-so-comforting sounds of the tornado siren.
I kept calling the Butcher for updates, who kept saying “I’m not a meteorologist; I’m just watching TV.”
He’s at home with the animals, the landlord, and the potential buyers, who are all taking refuge from the weather in our place.
The Butcher was, back when we thought the weather would only be rainy, supposed to keep the dog out of their hair.
So much for that plan.
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Tiny Cat Pants 