I HATE HAIL

Our first day of summer vacation started out like this:

Filled with joy and expectation, the kids inhaled monkey bread and started brainstorming a list of summer excitement, complete with check boxes, ensuring that we complete each and every activity.

{I have no idea how I'm going to accommodate Lilly's desire for the beach.}

All by 7:15 a.m.

After lunch, the kids loaded in the car for our first exciting stop: The Local Library.

{I just like to keep things unpredictable and exotic around here.}

Faintly, I heard the gentle whirr of a tornado siren. Being that tornadoes have been unwelcome guests at the local mall recently, and out of vanity for my vehicle, I decided we should stay home.

Two minutes later, this was the scene:

Fabulous.

Don't mind the welcome mat covered in hail.

My precious Nanny took a beating, too.

If you'll recall, Spring Snowstorm 2009! took out my patio table in April.

And Severe June Hail Catastrophe That Raised My Blood Pressure threatened the remaining chairs. 

And my plants.

My poor, poor plants.

I'm not yet in a place where I can really talk about it.

Those were snapdragons. And dusty miller (whatever that is.) And long green filler shoots for height.

And they were blooming.

Um, were. If gangly looking stalks with holey leaves become fashionable, I will be featured in Southern Living.

My children were SCREAMING, begging to pray, inquiring about death, and darting for the basement.

My tears, however, were focused on the temporal vanity of my plants.

I had just set a personal best record for keeping live things around here (other than my children and that is questionable at best) and the flowers were GORGEOUS. Fo' real.

Now they are heinous.

Fo' real.

Y'all, this hail chipped paint off of my chairs and front door. 

Oh, so this is where I think I'm supposed to mention that I'm glad the kids and I were safe.

But I am too upset about the plants to say much yet.

Oh, and happy summer!