The power is out at my house right now, going on about hour four. It took me precisely 17 seconds to figure out why olden day people whipped their kids with leather straps and two by fours. It’s freezing and there’s no water because the well pump requires electricity. Fortuitously, as it turns out, my bathtub has been full of water balloons for the last week and a half, so that’s one problem solved. If we go more than a few hours around with here without flushing this place makes the Hanoi Hilton look like the Taj Mahal. Next time, though, I’m going to make the boys fill their balloons with wine. If I get the right swill for them it will probably clean the toilets on the way down too.
And as luck, wretched bitch that she is, would have it, the boys just got home from a weeklong hunting trip and it looks like the filthiest, bloodiest corners of the old west and Quik-e Mart collaboratively exploded in the living room, kitchen, dining room and mud room. There is a squirrel tail on the dining room table, y’all!
There are sheets of water and chunks of trees raining down from the sky. It’s so bad out there that I had to use the leather strap AND the lumber to get the kids out of the house. Man, the olden days must have been EXHAUSTING. My arms are going to be sore for a week, I swear.
Update, hour six: the generator readily powers two lamps, the fridge, the television and the phone charger, but I have been unable to configure it to supply wine or muck out the mountain of dirty clothes, food wrappers and squirrel parts. It also appears to not have an autodestruct sequence or an option to spray out chloroform. Frankly, I’m pretty disappointed in the Honda people. I mean, generator suppliers should be aware of what sufferers of power outages REALLY need; this is just common sense. No wonder this place is going to hell in a handbasket; corporate America has lost touch with the people.
Update, hour nine: Power restored, generator dented with boot, minions dispatched to wine store. And all is right with the world.