Monday, September 15, 2008

Our Death-Defying Trip to McDonald's

Really, isn't EVERY trip to McDonald's laughing in the face of the Grim Reaper?

This one, however, was particularly perilous. If you are viewing this blog from anywhere in the Midwest, then you, too, were likely the victim of last night's winds, the remains of Hurricane Ike. Not unlike Tina Turner's ex, Ike thrashed around angrily, tearing things, quite literally, limb from limb. We are thanking the deity of your choice this morning that a) we have no large trees on our property and b) our AEP guys are speedy-quick.

We lost power last night at about 5 p.m., along with the rest of Columbus. Having already exhausted the peanut butter sandwich option for a snack and the bologna and cheese option for lunch (lesson learned!) there was nothing left on the "Things The Toddler Will Eat" list that didn't need to be cooked. Also, having not been outside all day, said Toddler was beginning to get squirrely by 6 p.m.

Into the Family Truckster we packed, and began our journey. Down Cassingham, strewn with branches and all-out limbs and, in some cases, entire trees. This, perhaps, should have been our first warning to give the peanut better another go.

We turned onto Broad and discovered all the traffic lights were out for as far as the eye could see. Here, I must pause and issue a general refresher from driver's ed. Six simple words that can prevent accidents, near misses and general road rage: IT'S A FOUR WAY STOP, PEOPLE.

We traveled maybe 6 miles down Broad and I cannot tell you how many idiots just careened through the intersections liked they owned the damn road. Let me tell you that Osi takes this as a personal affront. He makes it his mission to honk at each of these people (and often those going the other direction, too) and tell them loudly (although our windows are up, as are theirs) the correct procedure for approaching an intersection where the traffic light is out. Oh, he doesn't use so many words. And frankly, I now fear for the increased vocabulary of The Toddler.

After a 20 minute drive, we did procure chicky nuggets and The Toddler was once again a happy boy. Daddy, on the other hand, still had a 20 minute drive home, dealing with "these assholes." All the while dodging flying recycling bins, trash and, I think, Miss Gulch on her bicycle.

We did regain power at about 2 a.m., but there are a lot of traffic lights still out this morning. I fear for Osi's blood pressure on the 5 mile trip to work.

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