When the NOAA weather radio went off at just after five the next morning, Jackson jumped out of bed and shouted for me to get up. As I reached over to hit the panic button on the radio to silence it, I saw that Noah had snuck into our bed again and now lay between us, blissfully dead to the world.
“Is it a tornado?” Jackson demanded, throwing on his bathrobe.
“…Lee, Monroe, Pontotoc, and Union counties until 5:00 P.M. Repeat: A tornado watch has been issued for the following counties in Northeast Mississippi…”
“How many times do I have to tell you the difference between a watch and a warning?” I asked. “And you call yourself a Southerner.”
“I do not! Should we wake him up?”
He glanced down at Noah.
“A tornado watch means ‘conditions are good’ and all that,” I said. “We get a lot of w
