Tornadoes In a Hurricane...Sort Of...

So here I am on Saturday night, cooped up in my room. According to MSNBC, Hanna is delivering "fits of wind and pelting rain" on her mad journey up the Eastern seaboard tonight, and you are correct, MSNBC. There are fits all right. I think I'm having one right now.

Naturally I'm not alone, and naturally, I'm not in possession of only my own children. It just wouldn't be the weekend if we weren't involved in some sort of child swap. Usually I'm strictly a receiver, the girls taking in one roomie apiece - we stick to the "even number of children" plan in order to lessen my need to pummel anyone for excluding and/or tormenting the odd girl out - but tonight I only have Fifth Grader and Friend. Friend has a little sister who is chummy with Third Grader. So we traded.

Don't think for a second that this equates to peace and quiet around here. Au contraire. Fifth Grader and Friend weren't together for five minutes before they asked if I would take them to the mall. Dear God, have I arrived at the "take us to the mall" stage already? Suddenly I'm very, very sad...Well, taking them to the mall was less likely to completely annoy me than what I had in mind (sneaking off for a little nap while they amused themselves with Fifth Grader's tween magazines - never would have happened. A sleeping me is a Tornado magnet), so off to the mall we went, under the conditions that

A) I did not invite any credit cards along, so don't ask, and
B) After the mall? Tress at computer, wri-ting; Fifth Grader and Friend somewhere else, not both-er-ing.

And they haven't bothered me - EXCEPT for when they had to know exactly where all the flashlights are and exactly where we should all gather if the "fits of wind and pelting rain" knocked the power out. EXCEPT for when they thought it best that I make their dinner right away while we still have power. EXCEPT for when the wind became less fitty and the rain less pelty, and it was time to crank up the dance music that sends a shiver through the surface of my drink. Oh, and EXCEPT for when they emerged from Fifth Grader's bathroom in a cloud of glitter and perfume, their faces obscured by large amounts of Fifth Grader's tween makeup, wearing unintended combinations of Fifth Grader's clothes and in general looking about five years older than they actually are, and asked me if I could take a picture of them.

Um, let me see...NO.

So that's my Saturday night. Hopefully yours is more...well, less of what mine is, I guess.