We all survived the night camping out as a family in our living room. By the way, this is the closest we will ever come to real camping. I felt about 10 years older when I woke up, thanks to the fact that my legs, too long for the corner of the couch I was sleeping on, were completely cramped. Our power was still out when we awoke (and still is and likely will be for days and days and days) and fallen branches were everywhere, but we were safe.
We packed up all of our electronics and went to my office, where my husband tried to deal with flooding and power outages at a couple of his company’s offices, I tried to get some work done and we charged our devices. The girls entertained themselves with a movie and pizza, and Sophie penned a children’s book, reproduced below.
Frankenstupidstorm (aka Hurricane Sandy) apparently had an impact on our dear Sophie, and she lovingly (if not subconsciously) transferred some of her anxiety onto the protagonist of her story, a scared little dog.
Once there was a very scared dog. It was scared because there was a hurricane. There was a lot of rain and wind. The dog couldn’t sleep at all. The dog was to [sic] scared!
The next day the dog felt just a little tiny bit better. Next week there was no rain at all. In fact the sun was there all week long and the dog was so so happy.
And the dog was so happy that she would go outside when she can. The End.
