Batman Jeeps and Ice Cream, and That's All I Need

Stella was up first this morning at 7am. Five minutes into our milk and coffee time in bed, News 14 weather update blitzed off and the ceiling fan stopped whirling. Uh-oh, Stella said.

My sentiments exactly. Then I thought, as long as the ice cream doesn't melt, it will be okay. When Heath woke up I told him the power was off and Duke Energy would be out to fix it.

Hope the ice cream doesn't melt, he expressed with a little concern. I am relieved his priorities are in order.

The kids ate cold cereal, and didn't seem to mind not having their usual eggs. My coffee stayed relatively warm. And Heath managed to put on his boat shirt and brown shorts with minimal insistence, and we made it to school right on time.

Three and a half hours later (and power back on), I pulled up to the car pool line and immediately noticed something different about Heath. He was in his red squirrel-playing-a-snare-drum t-shirt and navy blue pants. Something had happened. And if the outfit change wasn't enough to clue me in that things had gone down, his dazed look told me there was a tale to be told.

I got out of the car and was immediately met with half a dozen-plus three and four year olds shouting, Heath 'frowed up. All his friends were deeply concerned about his well-being.

Heath handed me the plastic baggy of clothes that I was not looking forward to dealing with, and said, I was spinning too, too fast on the tire swing, then he spun his hand around and around to demonstrate how dizzily and throw-up producing his spinning had been.

I peeled him up off the sidewalk, and walked him over to the car.

I'll be okay, guys, he reassured his classmates, before hopping into the Jeep.

As I buckled him into his car seat, I immediately pressed him for additional details, but he had moved on already. You still driving the Batman Jeep, he observed with a smile. Good.

Priorities.