Last night at 8:07, I got a text from The Pony. I don't hear from him often, unless I initiate the text conversation. And right now he has finals coming up, so I try to leave him alone.
"Oh, so you know now, there's a tornado thing (the more severe one) for Norman right now. I'm down in the storm shelter."
Let the record show that The Pony is living in university apartments at OU. He is 11.6 miles from Moore, Oklahoma, which had an E5 tornado pass through it on May 20, 2013. That tornado had 210 mph winds. It killed 24 people, and injured 377. So a tornado warning in Norman, Oklahoma, is not something you pooh-pooh.
"I'm glad you're sheltered. Dad said it looked like you were getting bad weather, and it's headed toward Genius later. Stay calm. You've done all that you can do by getting to the shelter."
"Yeah. It was the lower thing for awhile, then I moved down to the shelter when my meteorology friends suggested it. I'm calm, other than just the large number of people."
"Well, it's not like you can choose some of them to kick out to perish, like on that Simpsons episode."
"I know I know."
At 8:59, I got another text.
"The tornado warning is over, it's just flooding now, and I'm on the 3rd floor."
"That's a relief. Are you back in your apartment already?"
"Yeah. About five minutes ago they lifted it, and the shelter is close by. I just had to run through this rain for a bit."
Having been there, I can tell that this picture was taken from right outside The Pony's apartment door, on the landing, looking down at the parking lot.
"You won't melt."
"Yeah. Unlike some people."
"I hope you are not referring to ME!"
So...The Pony was fine. But you NEVER stop worrying about your babies. Even when they're 20 years old. Or in their 50s, judging by my mom's actions.