Folks in the Philadelphia area had a great white Christmas this year; about 23 inches of the white stuff engulfed our neighborhood last week. It also engulfed our cars, pets, and driveways.
Our daughter and four of our grandchildren live with us, so we are in charge while she is working.
Schools closed due to snow before Christmas arrived and presents were opened. So, all the good movies and games that usually occupy the kids were useless; hidden, waiting for Santa.
Snowmen and snow angels were outside everywhere. So were hoards of snowballs, stock piled in strategic places near intersections, destined to be tossed during rush hour traffic if schools closed again. Perish the thought.
Our local station, 6ABC, with Cecily Tynan and FoxNews are now predicting more snow and accumulation - just what we need.
However, since it’s after Christmas, we have enough games and movies, action heroes, and sports attire to survive two days of school closings. Then, we’re in trouble.
We asked ourselves. After what we just went through, do we really want to set our grandchildren loose to terrorize the neighborhood?
The answer was a simultaneous “No!”
So, we made a disaster recovery plan.
Two spare TVs are set up in a corner hub of the house, each with game consoles attached. On a nearby table are electronic games, playing cards, board games in the event of a power failure, and DVDs.
I am making a Wal-Mart shopping list: Flour, eggs, butter, sugar, shortening, baking soda, and baking powder. That takes care of the cookies, ensuring that the kids will have enough energy to play with all their new toys. Then we need candles, batteries, milk, cocoa, marshmallows, bread, hot and cold cereal, meat and veggies, pet food, toilet tissue, and plunger. The other plunger took a beating when the sewer system backed up during the last storm.
My husband is in the garage, getting out the rock salt, small pieces of carpet, shovels, and deicer.
He has his own shopping list for Pep Boys: fluids, extra deicer and wipers, scraper, and snow tires.
We both double check the sale coupons in the Sunday paper, just to make sure we don’t miss out on anything important.
“Hey, look at this,” my husband said. “Buy one sun screen, get one free.”
“Is that a local paper?” I asked. “Any sale prices on batteries?”
“Hey, Pop, does our TV run on batteries, if the electricity goes out?” our grandson asked.
“No, you’ll just have to play ‘fish’ with your little sister.”
“Oh, no!” he pouted.
“I told you to teach her how to play ‘Texas Hold ’em,” my husband said. "Why didn't you?"
“Because, she thinks if she gets two-of-a-kind, she should win. She cries if she doesn’t win,” he said.
“Give her a crash course, I’ll referee.”
Meanwhile, I am making sure that schoolbags, coats, scarves, hats, gloves, and boots are in the foyer.
I just found a half-gallon of lantern oil in the cubby hole under the cellar stairs. Maybe we won’t have to dig out until spring!
“Where are the other kids?” my husband asked.
“They are out watching some guy trying to free his Corvette.”
Sunday, December 27, 2009
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2 comments:
Yes, whenever a storm is threatened or re-occurs, always head to Wal-mart to buy white.
Doesn't matter: if its' white, buy, buy, buy.
As for the kiddles?
Yikes!
How else could a baby boomer get into a shopping cart demolition derby for FREE?
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