Hit The Lights

Oh, the SJG has been feeling so smug, watching all the news reports about scary blizzards and hellish political hot spots. In recent days, the SJG has uttered the following smug sentiments: "Aren't you glad we're not back east?" and "Cancel the trip to Cairo."  Thursday night, all that smugness came back to bite me in my well-endowed tuchas.  Let's face it.  Karma's a bitch.

I was on the phone with Elena and we were talking about our favorite subject (food), when the lights in my humble, yet elegantly-appointed casa went adios.  Suddenly, the SJG was in total darkness, which I didn't like, not one bit.  My first instinct was to shout, "Hello?" and it wasn't just because the phone had gone dead.  I wanted to confront the powers-that-be for eff'n with me.  Didn't they know I had a nice chicken in the oven?  An oven that had just shut off?  "Hello?" I said again, but nobody answered.  Then I remembered I'm married to a former boy scout, overly-prepared for all emergencies.  He has crap buried all over the house in case of a random catastrophic event.  Unfortunately, I have no idea where he's put this stuff.  There is, however, an emergency light thingy in the hall that goes on at such times, so I grabbed that and stumbled into the kitchen to scout out another source of light.  I found a lighter and a box of Hanukkah candles.  As I looked for the menorah, a miracle occurred.  The electricity came back on, thank God.  Moments later, hubby arrived home and I told him we'd lost power and he'd missed all the fun.  "Did you open the emergency kit in the closet?" he asked.  "Are you kidding?  I couldn't find it."  "What about the fluorescent camping light?"  "The what?"  He walked me over and opened the cabinet high above the fridge.  "Why would you put it up there?  I can't reach it without a stool."  "Oh, right, I forgot you're so short."  And how was your evening?