We're on tornado watch.

On bedtime fears, from both sides of the blanket.

“Alright, kiddo, get some sleep. We’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

It’s always right when I think I’m in the clear for the night that it strikes.

“Daddy, I just have one more question tonight.”

[deep sigh] “Yeah, kiddo?”

“Do tornadoes happen here?”

“N… not very often, no.”

“But so they do happen here?”

“Well, listen, I’d be lying to you if I said that they never did. But they’re extremely rare.”

“What’s that mean?”

“It means they don’t happen much. You know, Mommy and I both grew up in places that get them even more than here, and neither of us have ever experienced a tornado. They’re really not common. Now get some sleep.”

A few minutes later, after tiptoeing on eggshells back the living room, I catch my wife up on the conversation.

“Okay, but that’s not true. I’ve experienced tornadoes.”

“Well, sure. So have I. But they don’t need to know that.”

If you haven’t spent a significant portion of your life in a part of the country prone to tornadoes, it can be hard to explain the casual relationship you …