We came home from Ithaca on Sunday night to a power outage.

The kids were thrilled to bathe by candle light, but the novelty quickly wore off mid way through Monday. Monday afternoon found us leaning against a wall in an empty shopping mall, charging my cell phone. Good times.

When we came home from our attempted shopping adventure – which featured a near pitch black Target for the kids to explore – I put Brecken down for his nap and snuggled Karis on the couch while crocheting her a panda bear. I started to feel uncomfortably hot, and thought it was just the lack of AC coupled with the  heat of our stuffy house. I moved Karis away, gave her some water, and told her to lay down on the floor (She looked like she was tired).

She was passed out within seconds. She woke up an hour later with confused, rabid eyes, crying and complaining that she couldn’t get her shoes off. She was bare foot. I calmed her down, and carried her blazing body upstairs to take her temp. 103.6º.

She cried as I bathed her in lukewarm water. She loved taking a dose of medicine. She was down to 102.8º and running around like a March hare in no time, demanding we eat Thai food for dinner.

Having no power really brought our little community together. Everyone sat out on their stoops at dusk to chat and feel the slight breeze pass by. Flashlights were shared, dry ice was gifted, B-B-Q grills were used as stove tops to boil pasta water. We even socialized with our elusive neighbors! They were idling in their giant Navigator, watching DVD’s with the AC blasting. (That 1970′s crying Indian Native American has shed enough tears over my neighbors to fill an Olympic sized swimming pool.)

We talked with the dad, who refers to himself as “Mo”. He told us that his Navigator is a company car to impress clients. He is in “imports and exports” which Jesse says is a nice way of saying “terrorist”. He regularly travels to the Middle East on business. He has a six bedroom house there, and wants to take us to Ethiopia to have an adventure. “You Americans – you will love it!” (This was said directly following his proclamation that Americans are spoiled, and in Ethiopia most places don’t have electricity. Sounds like paradise.)

He then gave us the remainder of his sons birthday cake and demanded we allow him to take us out to an Ethiopian restaurant soon. I love our neighbors because they never cease to entertain. They are genuinely nice people… they just happen to have the sketchiest background EVER. And a huge carbon footprint. Terrorism and greenhouse gas emissions: Not my favorite qualities.

NOTE: Our power finally came on 29 hours later. I was sitting on my couch at the time, sewing by candle light (I can rock it American Revolution style when I have to). Our windows were open, and I could hear jovial shouts and elated shrieks throughout the neighborhood. People were less excited when they pulled baby Jessica out of that well that one time. We are pussies.

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