Lights! Broken!

Punky and I went home for my nephew's fifth birthday party two weeks ago.  We drove down Friday and stayed until Tuesday.  We hadn't been home since Labor Day weekend so I took a few days off work so we could visit a bit longer.

My nephew's party went off just as you'd expect any five year old's birthday to go.  Screaming kids running around the house in circles, a mound of presents ripped open in five minutes flat, and little faces all sticky from cake and ice cream.  

The birthday boy insisted on a Batman party, complete with Batman balloons, decorations, and of course a Batman cake.  He also hoped all of his presents were Batman-related which is no easy task these days.  It seems like Batman has taken a back seat to Spiderman and Iron Man.  Their stuff is all over the place; Batman toys require much more searching.  Anyway, he did get a lot of Batman things, from pajamas to hats, toys and video games, activity books and t-shirts.  He was happy.

Thankfully most party guests were gone by about 4:30...because at 5:00 the power went out.  And stayed out for just over two hours.  At first, Punky was very confused.

We had a few power outages at our house this summer, but they all happened during daylight hours and only lasted a short time.  So, Punky really didn't notice.  It wasn't a big deal.  There was no need for explanation and she probably wouldn't have understood anyway.

This time was different.  We were all suddenly sitting in the dark.  My sister's boyfriend hunted for flashlights and scrambled to put a fire in the fire place for both light and heat.  After a few minutes, Punky looked at me with an expression I clearly read as, "What the hell, Mama?"  

I told her the lights were broken.  The lights were off, and we couldn't turn them on until the power man came to fix them.  She thought about it for a few seconds then flashed me an "I get it!" smile. 

Then she proceeded to explain it to everyone else.  Repeatedly.  For the next forty-five minutes or so.  Non stop.  Like the town crier in the old days.

"Mama?"

"What, honey..."

"Lights!" she'd yell while simultaneously throwing her arm up and pointing at the ceiling fan.

"What about the lights, sweetie..."

"Broken..." she'd say in the saddest tone you can imagine, complete with an accompanying pout.

Then she'd move on to the next person.

"Grammy?"  And the whole conversation would repeat itself.

By the time she was on her third trip around the room, we couldn't hold back the laughter.  It was almost like she had a true Eureka! moment and felt she needed to bring the rest of us into the know.  She was relentless.  And there was no ignoring her.  My nephew was the first to try it but she just stood next to him and yelled his name over and over until he finally caved and yelled, "What?"

She eventually got over it...possibly because we were all laughing too hard to answer her anymore...but she still hasn't forgotten it.  Any time I mention my nephew's party or my sister's name, she reminds me that the lights were broken.  It left a lasting impression on her, that's for sure.  It was big news in her little world.  I'm sure we'll end up in the dark at some point this winter and she'll explain it to me again.  And to everyone else who cares to listen.