Lights Out!

Tonight beginning at 10 p.m. until 6:30 a.m. tomorrow our power is going to be out due to a scheduled maintenance by PG&E, the power company.

We are running around like cats on catnip, or turkeys on tequila, making breakfast, trying to get lunches packed, placing clothes with their respective socks and underwear, washing dishes, and staring at the dishwasher.

"How long does this dishwasher take anyways?" asks Hubby. "And where are all the flashlights?" asks Hubby.

The man is seriously fretting over the dishwasher stopping mid cycle. Me, not so much. But if the dishwasher loses power mid-cycle tonight, I will scream tomorrow.

"Don't you have a flashlight app on your phone?" I ask.

"Yeah!" says Hubby having a light bulb moment.

"Wait, cancel that," I say, bursting his bubble. "Better save your phone battery and find a real flashlight."

"Oh yeah," says Hubby, continuing his fruitless search.

"You have 50 flashlights, surely you can find one," I encourage, as Hubby heads into the garage.

Internet, can you keep a secret? I do know where there is one flashlight, but I don't want to tell Hubby because it will disappear into the flashlight black hole.

Don't judge me. I'm an only child and it's my special Sugarland flashlight. When I turn on my Sugarland flashlight, Jennifer and Kristian are projected on to my carpet or wall, and they sing whatever song I request.

Not really. But still, it's very special to me.

Ten minutes later.

"I know I have a flashlight somewhere," says Hubby, looking a little sweaty.

"Did you look in Gio's bins?" I ask. "He's probably got them stashed somewhere."

But instead of heading to the toy room, Hubby heads back into the garage.

15 Minutes later.

"I can't find a single flashlight," says Hubby sounding winded, from the garage.

"Okay, fine, I know where there's one, but I don't really want to tell you," I say, not giving up any information.

But I don't think he hears me. Either that, or he remembers I'm an only child and decides it's not worth it because five minutes later he says, "I can't find a flashlight."

Tired of hearing about flashlights I shout out into the garage, "there's a flashlight in the ashtray of my car!"

I'm certain he doesn't hear me though. Then I realize all this time he's been "looking for a flashlight," in the "garage" he's really been outside riding his skateboard.

I know this because about two minutes later Hubby comes into the house and says, "I found a flashlight, and I love that new skateboard," all in the same sentence.

Phew. My Sugarland flashlight is safe for now, but I'm going to have to find a new hiding place in case Hubby's sub-conscious was listening, after all.

Anyways, it's nearly lights out, and I must say I prefer unplanned power outages. They're a lot less worry, work and not to mention, preparation.

Six minutes until 10 o'clock and the dishwasher is still whirring in the background.....................