It all happened one glorious Tuesday around 8:00 am.
I went to bed Monday night excited because I would be taking my son to storytime for toddlers at the library the next morning. He was three, and now old enough to receive a library card and attend storytime. I couldn't wait to share my love of reading with him!
Fast forward thru to 8:00 am on Tuesday: I am awakened by a loud "BOOM!" and a glaringly-bright light. The rapture! Wait. What? I didn't hear any trumpets. And I am still here! Oh crap, I am hell-bound!
My husband appeared to be asleep. What?!? My heart was beating wildly and my mind was racing. He was taken in the rapture, and I'm STILL HERE? That can't be right, if he was taken, I surely would have been. WHY did I not hear the trumpets? I don't remember reading anything about a big boom. This isn't right.
Then: the pitter-patter of little feet. My son! Oh, thank God, we're all still here! Then: (slapping my husband and yelling) "Honey, wake up, how on earth did you not hear that? Wake up and check outside, something is wrong. Either the rapture has occurred and we missed out or someone blew something up."
Husband walks groggily to the door, very slowly and half-awake and I grab my baby and jump back in bed and cover us up, thinking this was all a bad dream.
My husband then throws open the door, leaps up the stairs and yells, "Call 911 there is a downed power line and it caught the shed on fire, call them, quick!".
So, apparently, the big boom and simultaneous light was a transformer blowing up and the shed on fire.
Now ladies (and men if you're reading), you know that a three year old will take pieces of information and file it away for later, to torture you with emabarrassment. And sometimes, they don't do it intentionally. Sometimes, it is a word mispronunced or a way of saying it that can cause the shame. Remember the words of my husband above.
A few hours later, after the power company and fire trucks left, I readied my son and myself for our fun day at storytime. The library was a short walk from our home and on the way he talked non-stop about the "bucket truck" that the "power men" used to fix the power line.
Only when we were about to sit down in the story circle, after being introduced to everyone, including the sweet little old librarian, did my son choose to announce to everyone our excitement of the morning.
"Des what? We had a d@#* powa wine at our house dis mornin," my son said exuberantly.
To which everyone responded with big eyes and one of those oh-my-word-what-kind-of-mother-are-you smiles.
What I would have given for some "powa wine" in that moment!
Submitted by Heather