Early in the morning, the severe thunderstorms siren went off on my little tornado alert radio.

3:45am. Nice.

After falling back into a deep sleep, another siren went off. And went on and on and on and…

What the heck???

It was a wee child having a major, catastrophic meltdown. Full blown. Nothing was helping. No reason for it. Just loud. And visually acrobatic.

I’ve always been fascinated by the phycology of the human mind. It is the one thing that differentiates us from animals and computing machines. Every one is unique. There is not a clone among us.

Not even among identical twins.

Something about each one of us is different.

But do we all have similarities.

In this case, the oldest grandchild used to have similar meltdowns at about the same age. We feared waking the child up from a nap. The resulting lash-back was always horrific!

This was just the youngest form of the older one. The last of the child tribe.

The oldest one, thankfully, grew out of that phase.

I leaned over to my daughter as the chaos ensued.

“You now can officially say you have bookends.”

The glare was accompanied by a knowing side grin as the wailing swallowed up our usually calm morning.