Hurricane Stories
Wednesday morning, it’s pouring and it’s about to get a lot worse. A hurricane is well on its way on what seems to be a direct patch to our little town. My sister arrives with her two kids and immediately falls apart crying. I make the kids breakfast and plan our journey north. It slowly becomes clear to me that she’s not in any condition to drive after such a hectic night, trying to pack and seal the house as best as she can while her husband is away for work. I put her in the car with Claire and get in the car with the kids to what is going to be a seven-hour drive with a five year old and a three year old. I’ve heard horror stories about driving with small children in the car, but nothing could prepare me for this. All they wanted to do is play. Every question, statement or action were intended to engage me or one another in some sort of play. It was hilarious. When they wanted to pretend there was a large school of fish and quite a bit of ocean in my mouth, all I had to do was kee...