It all started innocently enough.
Isn't that like the most ominous being of a post ever? Next you'll read something like "THE LIGHTS FLICKERED AND WHEN THE POWER CAME BACK ON, EVERYONE WAS DEAD."
But back to the innocent beginning.
It was a couple of weeks ago, the same day tornadoes ravaged Oklahoma. The boys were upstairs sleeping, and I was downstairs watching my shows like any boring person does. Then I heard it.
The tornado sirens.
After a quick text inquiry asking if that was a bad sign, I threw comforters in the downstairs tub and grabbed the boys. Jonas slept through the entire thing, while Noah kept exclaiming "GOOD MORNING!!" We hung out in the tub for like 20 minutes, and seeing that the worst had passed, I put them back to sleep in their rooms.
I went back to my room, and stripped down, deciding to sit on the bed for a minute before grabbing my nightgown from the bathroom.
And then the power went out.
And stayed out.
And stayed out some more.
After about 20 minutes, I decided that I should:
1. Get dressed, and
2. Go to my parents house, the land of electricity.
The only thing was I couldn't see. Like, anything. After being really unsuccessful feeling my way around to collect clothes and toiletries OR A FLASHLIGHT, I remembered the boys PlaySkool lantern.
Oh, you know the one. The one with the yellow button you have to push, and ten it lights up, playing coyote and cricket noises.
And so I went through the house, pushing the damn yellow button every 30 seconds, the sounds of The Call of the Wild bouncing off the walls.
The lesson of this story? Always know where your flashlights are and never get undressed during a storm because the second you do, your power will go out.