Shane has a new obsession: tornadoes.
It's my fault.
It began with Shane running all over spinning his tunnel around and around to frighten me and Roxy. "It's an earthquake! Run away!" Shane shouted.
"No, that's a tornado," I said.
"Earthquake!"
"Tornado. Here, I'll show you."
I pulled up some quick videos on my phone. Since real tornadoes are as terrifying as they are awe-inspiring, I was very careful. I picked the most basic videos to avoid anything scary or anyone (justifiably) exclaiming curse words.
A new love was formed that day. Shane now insists I run from his 'tornado' non-stop. He doesn't quite get what a tornado is, either. Shane's tornado gets sad if I get tired of running away. Sometimes it's hungry and wants a peanut-butter honey sandwich, too. At least the coffee it drinks is imaginary.
Shane discovered a brand new twist on the tornado game lately.
"The tornado is eating all my toys!" he said.
Shane dumped every last train, train track, Jenga block, stuffed animal, and random widget he could find into the train. I tried to contribute. I threw in one of his balls, but got corrected. "No Daddy! No balls!" Shane was indignant.
Who knew? Tornadoes are selective.
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