I had a pretty low-key birthday, but that was all right by me. Curt presented me with a sentimental gift (priceless!), then we bribed enlisted Seth and Ross to keep Eli alive watch Eli while we snuck away for dinner.
Things were going according to plan: We’d left our name at the hostess stand and, armed with one of those little vibratey-thingies (no, you naughty thing, not that kind – the kind they use to alert you when your table’s ready!) headed to the bar to ease the projected 45-minute wait with the elixir of life gin and tonic. As we were becoming acquainted with our bartender (hi, Colleen!) and discussing the merits of watching Indy car qualifying rounds on one TV or the Tour de France from four years ago (Lancefest), my cell phone rang.
It was The Boss, calling on his brand-new cell phone (happy early birthday present!). He wanted to let us know that they were having a wicked thunderstorm. It was raining hard, they’d just lost power, and – oh yeah – the skylight in the kitchen is leaking a little bit, but don’t worry, we put a bowl under it.
Huh! That’s a new one. Even with all of May and June’s rains, nary a drop of water found its way into the kitchen by way of the seal on the skylight.
The boys assured us they had already secured flashlights and were playing Monopoly. How sweet, I thought. They broke out the board games. Peace and harmony reign Chez Soup, and we’re not even there to see it!
Then I texted, no candles, no matches, no open flames! Because it’s better not to assume. He replied, no worries.
I checked in periodically after we were seated and enjoying our dinner. By this time, peace and harmony had given way to impatience. When are you going to be home? he texted me. Soon, I replied.
Upon our return we were greeted by three boys, never as happy to see us as they were at that moment. We lit candles in all the rooms and tried to get the boys rounded up for bed. But what actually happened, was a giant rompfest on OUR bed, with three boys, one dad, plus two eager dogs who were dying to join in the fun (but knew better than to jump on the bed), and me, cowering on a small corner of the bed, attempting to read a book, but enjoying the chaos.
In fact, it was so much fun that we were all a wee bit disappointed when, 45 minutes later, the lights came back on.
We have the most fun during blackouts. It’s an adventure. It’s a chance to unplug from our electronic diversions, and plug into each other. I swear I’m going to start throwing the power main about once a month, just to see what happens.
