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BEAST rammed her face into the nasty end of a bathroom door last night and lost 1/2 of her front tooth. She is devastated, as I would be. It's not as bad as losing the entire tooth, but it's bad. So, without any sick days remaining, I have to get her into the dentist tomorrow morning for repair.

A tornado ripped through the area last night. Our little town is always sheltered from the funnel cloud, as it was last night again. The sirens went off, a twister was spotted a few miles away. We assembled in the basement (our bedroom) until the all-clear.

Then this morning I awoke to a crash. I don't have many nice things. But one of my rarer pieces of china crashed and fell when Beast opened the cabinet. Not due to her carelessness in opening the door. But in this house, it seems that if there isn't a clear place for something, or if there is no clear instruction on where to put something, it just gets crammed in. So I am one piece down. Damn. I got my kids, when they were babies, those stacking rings. You know, the graduated donut ring stacker? Wasn't that supposed to teach them that the BIG things go at the bottom, and the smaller things go on top? All three of them are in advanced math and geometry, but somehow we can't seem to put that theory into practice.

So, pissed, I went outside to find the aluminum can bin had blown over and there were cans all over. Using my keen sense of intellect, I put two heavy bricks in the bottom of the can and then chased the cans all over. Then I saw that the thin plastic covering of our mountain of mulch in the driveway was flapping madly, held down by a few rakes and a piece of garden hose. 30 minutes later and a dozen more bricks and it is now secure.

Ok, so I am a bitch. I went for a walk to cool down. And I began to think about a woman who I don't even know. I heard about her yesterday evening. All afternoon two major sections of highway nearby were closed down and helicopters were flying low, back and forth, until dusk. A visitor to our town brought her family to the temple. Her 4 year old son and an 8 year old went out to play. The 8 year old returned to report that the younger child had fallen into the river. They called off the unsuccessful search at sundown.

So some poor woman is spending today, Mother's Day, wondering where her baby is, is he cold? Is he scared? Did he sleep? Of course, he is in all likelihood gone by now, but a mother wouldn't think like that. She is likely at the side of the river now, calling out his name, that is unless she is heavily sedated into unconsciousness.

If this is the worst Mother's Day I have, I am indeed, a VERY lucky woman.

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