The Potato is Coming!

Tis the season in Iowa for tornados, a season which adults seem to tolerate especially well, at least after they have lived here a few years and the complacency has set in. I think it must have something to do with the fact that adults are so overwhelmingly grateful to have winter over, and that tornado sirens are preferable to ice storms, in general.

But for children, tornado season inspires great fear. Especially in the above-pictured child. That would be Isaac, my four-year-old.

Last year at this time, I took the kids to the mall to take advantage of a fabulous sale at Old Navy (girls jeans for $3.99!) While there, I was engrossed and absorbed in the rapid scanning of price tags to locate such a deal, when my children began freaking out. We were at the back of the store, near an emergency exit door, and my kids were pointing at the ground, squealing at water that was pouring in through the crevices! Green water! With cockroaches floating in it! It began flooding the store, several inches high, and I grabbed my pile of sale jeans (note: I grabbed the jeans, not the kids) and headed for the front of the store. (A second note: my kids followed me obediently, as I knew they would. None of them wanted to be swallowed up by the nasty green water.)

Just then a mall security guard entered and announced that a tornado had touched down just 5 miles away in a small town called Tiffin, and that the tornado was headed our way, and that everyone in the mall needed to evacuate the stores and seek shelter in one of the cement hallways of the mall designated for just such an emergency.

The cashiers were the first to flee, and I (in my complacency) grudgingly set down my coveted pile of jeans, and began to follow everyone out. Here, it is important to remind you, that while many adults in Iowa are not unduly frightened by such an incident (as the odds of the tornado actually striking the EXACT spot of your location are very slim indeed), children never, NEVER acquire such peace of mind on the issue.

As soon as the security guard announced the tornado, my children came unglued.

I'll never forget as we hurried down the mall corridors, caught up in the wave of panicked mall-goers heading for the tornado shelter, Isaac crying in a moment of frenetic hysteria, "The potato is coming! The potato is coming!"

Of course, nothing came of it. We stuffed ourselves into the tiny cement hallway, and the kids played paper, rock, scissors with the sweet college freshman sitting beside us, and within a half hour, we were purchasing the jeans (Laura is wearing a pair of them this very day) and returning back home.

But from now on in our family, whenever we hear a siren, or a weather forcast, or see a storm forming on the horizon, we all chant together, "The potato is coming! The potato is coming!" And Isaac, now a year older and a year wiser, blushes and giggles in mild embarrassment. I love that kid!