Home Team

So all the 12-hour days, seven days a week, over the last month climaxed with a humungous presentation in Atlanta yesterday. I can’t tell you the name of the client for legal reasons, but it rhymes with “Porsche.” It was fun, but I’m pretty sure the stress took ten years off my life.

Now, when I was a younger man, leaving town for a couple days was fantastic. Nice hotels, expense accounts, hotel bars, rented cars, movie stars (not really movie stars. I put that in because it rhymes. I’m in a rhyming mood). But now that I have Diana and Eli, my main goal when I leave the house is to get home as soon as humanly possible.

Unfortunately, Mother Nature had other plans. As I took my first sip of a well-deserved Atlanta airport beer, waiting for my flight home, Diana called. She informed me that she, the boy, and the dog were huddled in the basement seeking shelter, as instructed by the National Weather Service. Well, I said, at least she could watch TV on my awesome basement boy-room TV. No. The storm knocked out the power. My baby, my beautiful wife, and my best dog friend were sitting in the pitch black during a horrific storm, wondering if and when the basement would flood.

Just then I noticed all flights to Chicago ceased to exist.

My beer suddenly tasted very sour.

Long story short, the home team made it through the storm with nothing more than a little scared dog barf and a soiled diaper. And I made it to bed at 4:15 a.m. I’d never been happier to hear three snores in my life.

p.s. Com Ed got our power back on pretty fast today. I thought Diana was going to kiss the guy in the Com Ed truck. But they aren’t allowed to accept gifts.