Amazing, right?
Today we had the "relocation drill" at school, in case of, say, a windstorm or a tornado or the wrath of Zeus and Elvis combined. Essentially, the idea is that every student shall be moved from our nice, brick-and-mortar classrooms to the gymnasiums. The crappy...old...wood gymnasiums. And we are to sit quietly in the bleachers (really? they'd have the time?) and wait for it to blow over or whatnot.
As I sat waiting for a psychopath to burst through the doors screaming about zombies or vengeance or staples, I wondered just how much safer we'd be on the second level, because then we wouldn't be blown to Oz, and I wouldn't be mistaken for a tall Munchkin.
In other news, my poor puppy has to wear a cone It makes me sad, despite the giggles.