Today’s the first day back to reality. Steve set his alarm clock last night, for the first time in ten days.
Life shifts easily back to what it was, packing a lunch in a dark kitchen, children noisily making their needs known. Milk, yogurt, protein shake for Steve, extra banana in his lunch. Then the slam of the door as he leaves, and the cartoons go on for a bit while I drink my tea, map the day in my mind.
Today is cleaning. Left over dust from Christmas decorations and let over dirt from the New Years party and ten days of vacation make for a grimy feeling underfoot. So I dusted and cleared clutter and made trips to the basement, arms full of left over wrapping paper. I vacuumed and mopped and made grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch. I administered time-outs and helped dress Barbies and diffused fights over the two-sided easel (two sides, two children, right? Not exactly. Apparently the white board is better than the chalkboard).
When I was mopping the stairs, I was thinking about tweets I’ve read about the weather, and how it’s been a little nuts everywhere this year. A mild winter last year, a hot spring, a scorcher of a summer, an insanely warm fall and even now, in January, it’s rainy. And it dawned on me, that if the end of the world were to arrive tomorrow, and if we were to survive, I’m not sure we’d be prepared.
So I started thinking about what we’d need. If we’re talking fire and brimstone here, I guess water would be the first priority. If we’re talking The Day After Tomorrow type-thing, than those snow shoes I got for Christmas sure will come in handy. It’s scary shit, thinking about the end of it all, but maybe not a bad idea to have some reserves packed in a bag in the basement. I figure we’d load the kids in a sled that Steve could drag, and I’d carry our supplies in a backpack. But we have no guns, despite Steve being an excellent shot, from a family of hunters (he doesn’t partake) and having spent 12 years in the military. We have no plan.
So I texted him: I think we should be more prepared for the end of the world. He simply wrote back: Ok.
What about you? Have you thought about it? Are you a believer in the Zombie Apocalypse? Are you prepared for the end of the world as we know it? Maybe you think I’ve gone slightly mad? Have you thought about this children because won’t somebody please think of the children?