Unless you have no shower, no coffee, a dozen loads of wash waiting, a puddle on the floor from a mini fridge icebox defrosting, it feels like an eighteen wheeler hit you the night before (whatever stomach-yuck most recently ventured home from the schools), you're in the middle of the upheaval of swapping rooms around (Fearless Leader and my laundry is somewhere under a pile of toys) and there are four kiddos home from school making more mess. Ummm hmmmm.... I had a moment of serious contemplation. Perhaps the best course of action would be to leave the puppy licking up the defrost puddle while I ran screaming from the house and slid my way towards the nearest gas station with a bucket of caffinated sludge simmering on a back burner? Maybe a gas station in Hawaii?
The phone rang during that moment of hysteria. It was my dad calling to see how everything was going and checking to see whether the kids had school. He must have heard the flight plans taking shape in my caffine-deprived brain, 'cause my parents showed up half an hour later with a very large cup of coffee, doughnuts and big buckets of water so that we could at least flush the toilets.
As the caffine seeped into the frantic little places in my brain, the world started looking right again. (Everything looks a little brighter if you can flush toilets.) We laughed, we shared a meal, we
toured the town picked up parts for the next house project and we even snuck in a game of cards. And the power turned back on by late afternoon.
Now, a few days away from the stomach bug, with a cup of coffee in front of me and the laudry caught back up again, isn't our ice pretty?