Disaster

A 5-post collection

Challenge #02309-F119: ...Now You Do

Once all of the children had a comfort item, it was time to pass those that remained to agitated adults. -- Anon Guest

Where there are disasters, there are the aftermaths. Wreckage and ruin are there, for certain, but the heart of it is always with the people. Sheltered in temporary structures. Huddled under blankets or hiding from the world. The bleeding and needing, the vacant-eyed ones who are broken on the inside... and the children.

There are so many pairs of arms available. Only so many who are free to comfort the young, upset, and distraught. When that supply is exhausted, all that can be offered in that place are objects of comfort. A blanket to help maintain temperature. The warm drink to rehydrate. The seemingly mandatory stuffed toy. The sad truth is that soft toys are a decent replacement for actual, living comfort, and they can be easily manufactured.

There aren't enough arms for those children. There aren't any at all for those full-grown. Emergency responders know that, once the children are seen to, the stuffed toys are also welcome in adult arms. Every species with tactile senses much prefers something soft and fluffy to touch.

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What do I do to myself?

Roughly 12:30 AM, this morning. I wake up to the sensation of Beloved getting up in the literal middle of the night to go do something. I even heard the bedroom door open and close.

So after half an hour of trying to get back to sleep, I send Beloved a "WTF" text and really work at trying to slumber. In another half hour I roll over to discover Beloved by my side as if they had always been there. Sound

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...sigh...

Home again, home again, and boy, are we grateful. It takes a time to get away from it all to appreciate what you have.

But of course, it wouldn't be a family holiday without a family disaster. Chaos got the run-abouts while waiting in the Adelaide airport, tripped over Mayhem, and bumped a front tooth. Grandma insists that Chaos has broken her tooth and it's going to end in disaster. And won't shut up about the dental disaster that she calls key

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There goes the other shoe...

Drama Llama stopped by and handed me a little quote-unquote “gift”. Dramatically, of course.

The friend who verified my identity forgot to initial a correction on the form she filled out, verifying my identity.

I now have to wait for the weekend, attend a baby shower, and hand over a vital document so it can be initialled in the correct place and sent back to me.

Which now also means I have to gather up a First Mum’s

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