The week of Hurricane Sandy, in numbers:
Days that I was more or less trapped in an apartment with two small children: 7
Days that it took before I cracked open the bourbon: < 1
Days it took for me to finish the bourbon: > 1
Bags of Halloween candy consumed: 4
Bags of Halloween candy consumed by kids: 2
Boxes of Kraft Dinner consumed: 4
Boxes of dry cereal consumed: 4
Percentage of aforementioned boxes of dry cereal that were variations on Froot Loops and/or actual Froot Loops, because, BRIBERY: 75%
Number of pounds I gained from living on remnants of aforementioned dry cereal and Halloween candy: 3
Number of times Toy Story trilogy was watched: 3
Number of times Madagascar 3 was watched: 4
Number of times Jasper did Circus/Afro song-and-dance: lost count oh my god DA DA DA DA DA DA CIRCUS DA DA DA DA DA DA AFRO CIRCUS AFRO CIRCUS AFRO POLKA DOT POLKA DOT CIRCUS AFRO
Number of times I bribed – sorry, incentivized – Emilia to play with her brother and then locked myself in the bathroom because, my god, ADULT HUMANS NEED QUIET ALONE TIME OR THEY WILL DIE: > 7
Amount of money Emilia extorted – sorry, earned – from me over the course of the week: $37
Amount that I considered withholding as a Disaster Tax: $7, because I didn’t actually have that $7 and had begun resorting to IOU’s.
Amount that I actually withheld as a Disaster Tax: $0, because Emilia is a libertarian and doesn’t believe in taxes.
Number of times that I cursed the gods for visiting this weather apocalypse upon us and stranding me in an underpowered, under-bourboned, over-childrened wasteland: too many to count.
Number of times I thanked the gods for keeping us safe and for granting us time to do nothing but just be us, together: far, far too many to count.
It was complicated. It was complicated – and strange and amazing and terrible and fascinating – but it’s over, and I’m grateful.
(Our house in the Catskills flooded in the storm. I’m not ready to talk about that. Still too much of a gut punch. Number of times I’ve cried about this: too many to count. Number of times I’ve berated myself for not focusing on the blessing of only losing STUFF in the hurricane: too many to count. Again: complicated.)