My dad was here visiting.
Of course it rained a little.
Gus, like me, is terrified of tornadoes. So trying to appear calm while the tornado siren screamed, required an Oscar-worthy performance on my part.
"Okay, Mom? NOW I am getting a little concerned ..." he kept saying. Concerned was always the word he chose. Not scared. But concerned.
"Everything's fine, Gus! There's nothing to be concerned about at all. Want to go hide in the dark, pillow-lined closet under the staircase just for fun?"
Saturday afternoon was when we realized things were getting weird. Up until that point, we thought we were dealing with a typical Tennessee monsoon.
So we went to the library and saw a marionette show, the plot of which eluded me completely but the boys seemed to enjoy; went out to lunch, went to the Lane Motor Museum to look at the car collection.
"He's asleep," Larry said. "The boys wore him out."
So, we managed to have fun despite the rising waters. Despite the leak in our ceiling. Despite the comedy of errors trying to get my dad a flight back home. Despite the three feet of standing water we discovered in our basement when I finished hydroplaning home from the airport.
Yes! A HOUSE WITH AN UNDERGROUND POOL!
Just what I always wanted.
We consider ourselves very lucky though. Ours is an unfinished basement, accessed from a pain in the ass to open trap door under our deck. So we store almost nothing of value in it. So far, the only thing I can think of that's down there is our “100% Genuine Synthetic Pre-Lit American Fir Tree.”
That one was a keeper.