Driving home after, perhaps, an ill-advised dinner out with my rabble. We made our escape with not too much horsing around, and started on the long, arduous, question-riddled journey home. I remarked that there was, in fact, no cars on the road. For minutes at a time there were no other cars on the road. I felt like I was driving into the beginning of a post-apocalyptic story. And that would be ok, because I had filled up the petrol tank at Costco that very day; we had just finished dinner, and therefore would have at least 15 minutes before begging for more food began; I found a second first aid kit in the back of the car – not the best for zombie attacks but not the worst for general injuries. There was even an errant water bottle floating around back there, which I almost never have.
Then, normality returned when there was fighting in the backseat and I pulled over to yell at all and sundry; a few other cars drove past the the possibility shrank from my mind. Of course, it would have been a great script since Husband is overseas, and with whatever plague plagues the human race and consequently the airports, he would not be able to get home and render aid. Of course, the world is pining for a relate-able female lead in a zombie movie, and who would be more relate-able than a weary mother of three? I have bling and I could put on some lippy and sunglasses, so the high-end soccer moms could relate to me; I have a medium-sized car and have lines on my face so the maybe not quite sooo glamorous parents would relate to me, especially as I yell into the rear view mirror; and my car is just FULL of crap, so everyone everywhere rejoice as there is a normal un-role model in the lead. Spielberg, send me your ideas!
Anyhoo, there are few reasons why some sort of apocalyptic nightmare might begin today, or at least reasons in which I might be a little prepared, if there is such a thing. On the other hand, I have awesome plans to go and watch the Cindarella movie in a ballgown, so… let’s postpone those end of the world plans for a little while. A day or two, at least when Husband is home to help.