Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Oh Sandy, Baby

Combine a natural disaster and a kid who doesn't trust her designated adults to keep her safe* while being completely oblivious to any potential dangers created by said natural disaster** and you get an interesting few days. (*This is a typical side effect of her background.) (**This is a typical side effect of being a teenager. Maybe? I have no idea.)

Sunday
The storm is coming. The Kid wants to go out to the playground and meet up with some friends. We impose an arbitrary 3pm curfew because we don't live in an evacuation zone, but who the hell lets their kids wander around the neighborhood this close to a natural disaster? I was never allowed to go out this close to a storm, but am being treated like Mussolini for not letting her stay out until 6:30.

We try to explain the likelihood that none of her friends were allowed to go out and the dangers of flying objects in hurricanes and pre-hurricanes.

She comes home at 3 claiming that she's going right back out again because her friends are allowed to stay out until 5:30. We manage to persuade her that we're not trying to trick her into spending quality time with us and she retreats to just inside her door where she listens to music on her cell phone (on speakerphone) loudly enough that we can't really hear the TV. 

HA giggles at her sit-in protest. I fear the day that she learns about the anti-Vietnam protests of the 1960s and starts utilizing some of those tactics. She's already got the sit-in down, but I'm not looking forward to the chanting and signs.

We abandon our plans to clean the kitchen and bathroom and start a jigsaw puzzle on the dining room table so we can guard the front door without dying of boredom. We discover that we have different styles of jigsaw puzzling and worry that this may have implications on our continued marital bliss. I mean really. Who sets out all the puzzle pieces facing up before you've even separated and assembled the outside pieces?

Monday
Public transportation is shut down, local businesses are closed, I sit at my computer desk by the front window and see exactly no cars drive by in two hours. The Kid asks if we can get takeout for lunch. 

I explain all the logistical problems that combined to keep the pizza place closed today. Her answer? "I wasn't talking about pizza."

Further explain the dangers of delivery persons riding bicycles, mopeds and cars in high winds. And the stores are closed anyway.

She seems unimpressed by this information.

Two and a half hours later, she decides to have crackers. She does not want cheese because "we only have the sandwich kind" meaning swiss cheese slices, and she feels that she must save the slices for sandwiches (or she refuses to eat them on crackers, I don't even). (She only eats swiss cheese. She does NOT eat cheddar. Except when shredded and mixed with Monterey jack in the combo known to her as "regular cheese" and to the rest of the planet as "cheddar jack". The rules regarding her eating are Byzantine as fuck.)

I try to tempt her with Laughing Cow cheese only to discover that it expired months ago. We find some turkey bacon and she asks HA to make it for her (the smoke gives me a migraine). 

She actually let me help her look for alternatives to the sandwich kind of cheese and voluntarily spoke to HA to ask him to make the bacon. We're getting all kinds of quality time here. Thanks, Sandy!

After 9.5 hours of watching TV, she decides that she's sick of watching television and wants to do something else. We read scary stories aloud and play cards. 

Tuesday
Things take a turn for the impossible to write about humorously, so I'll wrap up here.

We remain safe, dry and with electricity, but cannot say the same for large swaths of my family. Everyone is confirmed OK with the exception of a few people who are probably perfectly safe somewhere with a bottle of scotch not even thinking that their dozens of relatives might want them to check in.

1 comment:

  1. My kid (similar circumstances) also has complex food rules. Plus she's evangelical about the desirability of dill pickles and whipped cream. So her opinion counts for naught.

    Ditto on the eye rolling for "here's why that idea won't work".

    I shudder to think of us trapped for large swaths of time without electronics to distract us and no escape during tantrums.

    My thoughts are with you.

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