As if Thanksgiving wasn’t annoying enough with YodaMan spending the day in Afghanistan looking at Snapfish (which is against the rules, I’m guessing, since the censoring software out there – which just broke – normally blocks it) pics of the boys for the last two years.
We went to spend the day with my mother’s family. It was a decent enough day until the conversation naturally turned to Obama. My uncle was very cool about the discussion, but then my sperm donor (NRA security officer, stick-up-the-ass conservative) got hold of the convo, which means it’s pointless to argue since their idea of arguing is just to talk louder and over you and drown you out and ta-da! Debate won. I left the table without saying a word when I saw the convo turn, so I escaped obnoxiousness for the day.
We also celebrated my younger sprog’s third birthday. I hate when my entire reason for having the camera out isn’t to capture a sweet moment to scrapbook but to make sure I have as many photos as possible to document the day my husband has missed.
:sigh: Anyway, it was a fine day of kitten hugging and Celebration Roast and vegetarian side-dishes. We packed up and came home at around 4pm. But as we were pulling up to our street, we noticed an Alabammy Power truck parked at the corner across from the fire station, and we didn’t see street lights on, which was odd considering it was turning to dusk at that point. We came inside to discover we had NO power, and it had been off for at least an hour.
Mom called the power company and learned it would be 8:30 that night before we got power back, so we took off for WalMart to keep the kids occupied. It was a nice time, actually, since I got to spend a few hours shopping for this poor little girl and her brother* who desperately need some love and capitalist confirmation that they’re going to be okay. It was an absolute ball.
As we drove home, the neighborhood was dark from one end to the other. It was 8:45.
We got back home and tried to load a cooler with ice and put all our leftovers in there since we didn’t want to leave the fridge open long enough to shove and maneuver. Then we started towards bed with the new info that it would be “after 11pm” before we got power back.
At midnight, the power suddenly shot back on, the crowd of power vehicles behind our house took off down the road, and I looked at my clock. It had stopped at 2:31.
What happened? According to the guy fielding the whining and mewling at the power company, some asstard decided to get lit and go for a drive. He hit a transformer and instantly sent several hundred families from full-power Thanksgiving enjoyment/prep to NADA. The houses got freaking cold by eleven last night, and my kids were wigging out in the dark. How many families ended up tossing half-cooked turkeys that started to grow bacteria in dead ovens? What a nightmare.
But by the end of the day, I could be thankful that I got my meal, and I got to shop for those children. And the frustration of no electricity and a freaking cold house made me forget for a while that we were missing a very important family member. A nice day in spite of the snarkability.
Still working on finishing this novel and getting it cleaned up. I’ll be back soon! Pinky swear.
* My mother’s company has a charity group, and they’ve “adopted” two children for the holidays from a local church. One little girl – 6 yrs old – and her 9 year-old brother. They live with their aunt now, but before they went to her, they lived with their (literally) crack whore mother. They came to CPS’s attention when she took them with her to her dealer’s house to get loaded up and then –oops!- left them there for three days. When she was in court about this, she was so high, she fell asleep during the proceedings. Good mother, there**. So these kids have lived with this hell for we don’t know how long and have probably been well and truly neglected. It was fun shopping for the boy and finding some electronics he might enjoy, but it was an absolute blast getting to shop for a little girl. *squee* Adorable clothes, some lip gloss and cute mini-fingernail polishes and a brush and some barrettes in a bag that says “angel” on it, and a few little toys. Alas, I kept rebelling against the grating gender roles, but I gave in (obviously) since I know they’re raised here in Alabammy and therefore have been subject to these expectations from the start. Next chance I get, though, I’m going out and looking for some gender-shattering options, like a science kit for her and some novels for him (since boys don’t read as much as girls...and men not as much as women...and let’s boot some of that nonsense right now, mmkay).
** I’m seriously all about people’s rights, but shit like this makes me dream of a world where we can take irresponsible people and snip their ability to procreate, then take those kids and give them to homes where they’ll be loved and adored and treated with compassion and respect. But then reality interferes, and I have to content myself with just throwing up in my mouth.