Tonawanda News — Have you ever noticed how everything seems to happen at once?
Monday had been lousy. My husband spent most of the weekend sick with this so-called “norovirus” that’s going around, but I thought that with copious cleaning and hand-washing, the rest of us had avoided it. Not so. I was ready to head out the door to work when, wham ... and, well, that just wasn’t going to happen.
The rest of the day was a blur, and not in a good way. Then, at 11 p.m., just as I thought I might be able to get some rest ... wham, again. There’s a crying 4-year-old with his own share of the virus and a pajamas and a comforter and a bathroom and a bedroom that suddenly need scrubbing.
I’m not likely to forget the next 21/2 hours, much as I’d like to do so. Up and down. Into the bathroom with the little one. Trying to sneak some sleep. Into the bathroom myself. A little bit of water so no one gets dehydrated. Back to the bathroom with the kid. Repeat.
And then it was 1:30 a.m.
I was staring at the ceiling, wanting desperately to sleep, pretty sure that wasn’t going to happen. Little did I know how correct I was.
The silence of our quiet Town of Tonawanda street was shattered in a heartbeat. Something was moving down the street, very quickly. Somehow, in my ill and sleep-deprived haze, I concluded that it was something very large, like a fire truck. Of course, that probably had something to do with the sirens that accompanied it.
Lots of sirens. And they were very, very close.
The kid was sleeping peacefully for the moment. I ran downstairs, meeting my husband, who was trying to catch his own bit of sleep by staying away from us for the evening. “Did you hear that?” we said in unison.