Most things in our lives are pretty predictable. For example, on any given night, there's about a two-fifths chance I'll make a pot of popcorn. And, if I do, there's about a nine-tenths chance that your dad and I will polish it off, even if we meant to save some for lunch the next day. Oopsies. For another example, there's about an 88 in 89 chance that on your father's "front door table," he'll have three framed photos, four writing utensils, a flashlight, a phone, a wallet, car keys, a knob, some spare wire, and some paper scraps.
But some things are less expected. Like the tornado siren that went off at 5:30 in the morning because of the fierce windstorm whipping through Carbondale. Notice your father's yawn. I hope he didn't dislocate any face bones. Oh, geez.
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