The husband has already called from Florida — nice touch having the seagulls in the background. As a nice, thoughtful touch — since he knows it will be take-out city around here for a couple of days (you know, my non-cooking thing) he did leave me plenty o’ cash to support the habit.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, the snow has already started coming down and my mother has gotten me in full panic mode.
I’m not normally a panic-type person. But I realize I’m semi-useless when it comes to things like working the snowblower. And even if I could shovel the zillion inches they’re promising, I can’t exactly leave the three year old all alone in the house while I do it. And they’re saying this is going to be big — and trust me — my town can’t handle small snow removal. And all I care about is that power stay on so Elmo DVD’s can play. Because if Elmo isn’t playing, no one’s going to be happy.
So I call my neighbors who have assured me they will dig me out. Boyfriend of neighbor has snowplow on his jeep. Boyfriend of neighbor is in the Merchant Marines. Hence — the Marines are coming to save me! It’s very fitting.
I feel better. Somewhat.