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The closer it gets to June 14, the more apparent it becomes: I’m insane. I’m outfitting this place like a bunker. Extra bottled water, because you never know what might happen to the water supply. Not just stocking the first aid kits… creating new ones. Batteries everywhere. Should I buy yet another fire extinguisher? I bought an extra can opener. The upstairs linen closet has no room for linens; four jumbo packs of Scott tissue take up every spare inch. (You know how many rolls to a jumbo pack? Twenty. Number of days I’ll be away? Forty-two. Apparently I think they’ll use nearly two rolls a day.) I have posted every phone number I can think of on every level of the house.

“Okay, we’ve tried Aunt Emily, the church, Grandma, 911, and Pizza Hut; no one is answering… oh, thank goodness, Mom left us the number for my old fifth grade teacher! Try that one!”

Clearly I’m worried that these children won’t last five minutes without me.



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