It’s always something with us. After a fairly low-key Saturday with the little man (of watching cartoons, running errands and visiting my folks) I was looking forward to a quiet evening with the husband (I skipped The Ponys show at the Triple Rock). But not too quiet. Just after the boy fell asleep I heard a loud explosion…immediately followed by the power winking off throughout the neighborhood (yesterday my father reiterated his favorite argument for living in a newer suburb vs. the city - underground powerlines). A sinking feeling told me it wouldn’t be a quick fix situation. Our problems were compounded by some horrible shrieking, and it wasn’t coming from me. It was the alarm emitted by the home security system whenever the power goes out (just in case we hadn’t noticed the sudden plunge into darkness). In his mad rush to make this god-awful noise stop the husband inadvertentally disrupted our phone service. Doh. And I had neglected to recharge my dead cell phone battery when I’d had the chance. So we found ourselves having a very quiet Saturday night indeed. I was all for playing Scrabble or Trivial Pursuit by candlelight, but without electricity to power his air purifiers the husband’s asthma was unduly aggravated. So he fled the scene in our only functioning automobile. Leaving me stranded with my sleeping son…in an all too quiet house without power…with all lines of communication severed…and without any convenient way to leave in case of an emergency. Naturally I didn’t sleep well that night, but Sunday was a new day and all that. The power was back on, for one thing. That being the case I had to fight the urge to flip on every single light switch and small appliance we own.
