Last night, while I was at a speaking engagement, the power went out at our home in Marion. A few thousand other folks were in the same boat.
But, I bet, in few places was there more comedy or drama, according to the account told by my wife when I got home.
When the lights went out, my daughters, 3 and 7, apparently lost their minds. They were convinced that the lights had been knocked out by a twister. They demanded to go to the basement.
My wife, flashlight in hand, calmly assured them that no twister had been spawned. Remain calm. All is well.
Or was it?
The 7-year old ran to the refrigerator and attempted to operate the ice and water dispenser. It was dead.
“We have no water,” she declared, dramatically.
She opened the refrigerator door, only to find darkness inside. More amazement. How would they survive?
My wife reminded her that water continued to flow from various faucets around the house. The refrigerator would stay cold for a while, with the door closed. My daughter was relieved, momentarily.
Then the questions began.
“Does the toilet work?”
“Does the oven work?”
“Can we still watch Noggin?”
“What about my toothbrush.”
Yes. It has batteries.
This inventory of household items and their status continued for some time, I’m told. My youngest, for her part, repeatedly said she “wished daddy was home,” which drove my wife nuts.
We don’t need old stinky daddy, was her reply.
After about 30 minutes of frenzy, the power came back on. Order returned.
By the time I got home, the little angels were in bed. My wife requested that I mix her a drink.
Old stinky daddy complied.