December 1st. A bit of sun peeking through the windows. I knew something was wrong when all of a sudden I could hear David snoring, and Eli smacking his droopy poop-eating jowls on his dog bed.
No no! All wrong! Where was my white noise? My beloved sound machine had died?
Frantically, I seized the sound machine and began pushing buttons. No go! Catastrophe! I cannot be expected to sleep in a house where I can hear other living, breathing creatures! Who could expect such a thing from me?
I fumbled for the alarm clock — no friendly glowing Santa-red numbers. And the air, well, the bedroom air should not be so cold.
Pushing the curtains aside I saw white. Snow everywhere. Power out! The terrible succession of thoughts, collapsing like Dominoes and crushing a Candyland route of brain cells:
No furnace!
No heat!
No stove!
No coffee!
No DVD player or TV (this one made me gasp aloud as I heard H-Bomb stirring in the next room and thought MY GOD SATURDAY MORNING WHAT WILL WE DO WITH THE CHILD)!
No email (another gasp)!
No phone (okay, not bad).
I prayed that the cold would envelop Hattie’s head and lull her into a nice hypothermic sleep for just another hour or two. I was willing to drape a German Shepherd over her if necessary.
No go. Little Girlfriend Was Up. I dispatched David and Eli to deal with the H-Bomb Morning Situation. Red clean fluffy Nina, the quietest sleeper in the house, was welcome to stay and warm my tushie.
Power back on now, but the house temp is still hovering around 59 degrees. If I think warm fuzzy thoughts perhaps it will heat up more quickly.
P.S. THANK YOU TO SANTA IN NYC, you sneaky wonderful person, whoever you are.
Comments on this entry are closed.