You think that since I’d been a firefighter for 28 years, I’d be well prepared for any emergency. Because of my intense training, even now in retirement I should be able to keep my cool when things go wrong unexpectedly. As a firefighter, I could always somehow get out of dangerous situations mostly unscathed.
Well, Dear Reader, during a recent storm and power outage, my luck finally ran out. The lights went out at our house, and I ended up injured, lying in the corner calling for help. Unable to rescue myself, or anyone else, the situation seemed hopeless. This time, the heroes who, “Go into the night to save the day,” weren’t me.
The overhead lights flickered twice before going off at our house at 7 p.m. Immediately, the power outage plunged rooms into darkness. Prompting cries from our two granddaughters and a frantic search for flashlights by Yours Truly.
First lesson learned: if it’s a cloudy evening when the power goes out, then it’s gonna be really dark inside your house.
Second lesson learned: you should always have a charged flashlight handy. We didn’t.
Third lesson learned: as you bump your way from room to room searching for that elusive not so handy flashlight, no matter how many times you try switching them on, the lights still won’t work.
Fourth lesson learned: always store spare batteries with flashlights. Otherwise, you’ll start to bump and search through darkened rooms for a second time.
Fifth lesson learned (and this is an important one): when the lights go out, calling The Wife who is out of town for an important work conference while your two granddaughters are yelling, “HEY, GIGI!” in the background makes it difficult to hear, especially when asking where the batteries to flashlights are. At first, she will laugh, then give you directions straight to where you now remember you stored them.
Sixth lesson learned: small objects (like Legos) left lying on the floor will tend to stay lying on the floor unless acted upon by some outside force. During the recent power outage, said force was my bare foot.
Seventh lesson learned: nothing, not all the training that went into 28 years of being a firefighter, will prepare you for three hours of no lights in a house with a 4- and a 5-year-old.
Eighth lesson learned: to have any possibility of survival in a house only illuminated by a single flashlight, one must be creative. Lucky for me, I am. Santa just happened to bring three capes and matching masks to our house last Christmas. The girls’ favorite show, P.J. Masks, portray three children who are heroes: Owlet, Gecko, and Cat Boy. The girls and I threw on our capes and masks and climbed aboard the Owlet plane to go, “Into the night to rescue the day.”
Ninth lesson learned: make sure when you hang up the three capes and masks after role-playing that you don’t accidently misplace one mask. Or your first mission of the night will be a frantic search by flashlight for the missing Owlet mask while she is crying.
Tenth lesson learned: a lot of energy is spent being super heroes. Snack food is necessary if super powers like Cat Boy’s cat speed, Owlet’s flying and owl sight, and Gecko’s super strength and stickiness are to return.
So what was the final lesson learned? When the lights go out at your house during a storm, even while using a flashlight and wearing a green Gecko cape with matching mask, your bare feet will find missing Legos.
And that’s how Yours Truly ended up in a crumpled mass on the floor, needing rescue from Owlet and Cat Boy, just as the lights flickered twice before coming back on at our house.
[Rick Ryckeley has been writing stories since 2001. To read more of Rick’s stories, visit his blog: storiesbyrick.wordpress.com.]
