A Tribe Called Whitlock

March 31 was one crazy day for those of us in Tampa.  We had been told very early by our Meteorologist that a nasty storm would be heading our way.  It is so erie how they can tell you almost the exact minute that a storm is  going to hit your area.  So the morning started as we watched the news and tracked the storm.  Tori is 45 minutes away and we talked on the phone as the storm passed her school.  She was standing with other students in front of a huge window watching it. “This is the scariest storm I have ever seen Mom! You should see the trees bending.” Nice.  Right as I heard Mr. Weatherman announce that the storm should be hitting Tampa with in the next few minutes I heard the howling of the winds.  As I ran in the bathroom to throw pillows into the tub just in case we needed them I was sending out prayers of protection for all my babies at school and Maurice at work. I can not stand to be apart during situations like this.  The hubster called telling me a funnel was spotted nearby and we should get to the bathroom.  I got to Tres room, hauled him out of bed and put him in the tub.   Once it seemed to calm down I pulled Tres out of the tub and placed him in his wheelchair for breakfast.  Right as I placed his plate on his tray we heard the tornado sirens.  Whisking him out of his chair we headed for the bathroom again.  Way too much strenuous activity within a few hours. Later as we watched the news we seen the pictures of the damage that was caused by the storm.  Pictured above is poor Tres sitting in the bathtub he visited a little to much that morning.