If I’m ever in charge of the survival of humanity, we are in serious trouble

We are bringing home our canine baby in a little over one week and I am in full nesting mode, much like I was before I brought home my two human babies. This means that I am cleaning and organizing everything, including the dust bunnies on either side of my stove which are now organized from smallest to tallest so if the puppy ever wedges himself in those crevices while chasing a wayward piece of kibble, he won’t be immediately freaked out by a hairy monster twice his size.

I suppose I could have gotten rid of the dust bunnies entirely but then who would keep the puppy company as we are running all over the house yelling OLIVER! WHERE ARE YOU? OH MY GOD, DID SOMEONE STEP ON OLIVER? QUICK, CHECK YOUR SHOES.

So as I’m scrounging around our bedroom closet, I spot this blue box that’s been sitting in the corner for about two weeks shy of forever. I’d always ignored it, assuming that it was one of those things that followed me from house to house to house and contained crap I’d never need again but felt compelled to save nevertheless, not unlike the stained, ripped cardboard boxes in our basement filled with my elementary school history, including my fourth grade essay entitled Yellow Brown Trees with Yellow Green Leaves which was an exercise in both iambic pentameter and How to Be a Word Nerd 101.

But my curiosity finally got the better of me, not to mention the fact that the damn thing was taking up some desperately needed floor space so I dragged it out of the closet and down to the kitchen.

Judging by the lid, I can only assume that the dust bunnies by our stove are prolific, fertile little buggars who scamper up to our closet for quickies. I must hop online after I write this and order a brand new nose since I sneezed the current one right off my face. The track lighting we have above our kitchen table is now blinged out with about $2,000 worth of twenty year old rhinoplasty.

I opened the lid and instantly recognized the survival box I had assembled over eight years ago, sometime after September 11, back when I was convinced we were only two or three CNN segments away from full blown Armageddon and I wanted to be prepared in case Nate and I had to do our part to help repopulate the earth.

Two things became immediately apparent to me as I glanced at the contents of the box: (1) I’d have to work my way up to being an idiot; (2) judging from the appalling lack of toiletries such as clean undies, soap, toothpaste and deodorant, the chances of Nate and I having post-Armageddon sex was practically nil.


Make that absolutely nil. I neglected to pack a razor.

Granola bars, generic graham crackers and peanut butter.

That’s it. That’s all the sustenance I managed to gather, despite being centrally located to at least three Wegmans within a six mile radius. Our family of four would have lasted … what? A week, maybe? Or 36 hours, depending on whether or not I had my period.

No non-perishables. No MRE’s. No bottled water.

No lighters or matches or propane or charcoal or firewood or anything with which to make a fire.

No utensils of any kind.

No pots or pans or Pyrex or Le Creuset or George Forman grill to be found. You know, in case I wanted to make a granola casserole or something.

Worst yet, no Milky Ways, Dove Chocolate or Toblerone bars. No decent chocolate of any kind which begs the question, would armageddon even be worth surviving?

Oh! And no canned goods. Anywhere.

Which begs the question, what the hell is the purpose of the can opener?

I mean, other than to mock me for buying a brand new one two weeks ago.

I packed one package of pads. ONE. Generic and ultra thin, no less. If my uterus had a nose, it would be snorting milk out of it as I type. We would have lasted two days tops, right up until I soaked through my one and only pair of undies and then I’d have had no choice but to go around stealing everyone else’s undies and living out the remainder of my life on the run from a resentful humanity forced against its collective will into running around commando.

And look … seven diapers. Seven. Helena was one year old at the time and the human equivalent of a soft serve ice cream machine. She had the habit of waiting no more than twenty minutes before filling up a fresh new diaper with a jumbo sized chocolate to go. With sprinkles.

We would have lasted less than a day before she soaked through that last diaper and asphyxiated all of us with the stench.

One … count it … ONE roll of toilet paper. ONE.

Forget everything I said. We would have lasted twenty minutes before the roll ran out and it would have been anarchy.


Nothing to put them in, mind you. Like, maybe a radio. Or walkie talkies. Or even a flashlight.

Numnuts, party of one? Your table is ready.

As if I could survive Armageddon on one tiny bottle of extra strength Tylenol. For God’s sake, I sprinkle more than that on my cereal when my mother comes to visit.

Where’s the needle and thread in case I need to sew a leg or finger back on? Assuming I learned to sew before the apocalypse?

Better yet, where’s the stapler?

Where’s the alcohol to disinfect the stapler? Rubbing alcohol would have been good but a few bottles of Absolut would have been better.

Don’t ask me why I felt it necessary to pack 4 capsules of Dayquil.

I need a t-shirt that says “I’m with Numnuts.”

I remember totally buying into the theory that sealing up our windows and doors with duct tape would protect us in the event of a biochemical attack. Apparently, I dozed off during the whole bit about plastic sheeting and gas masks.

But at least I was fully prepared in case the girls suddenly needed their pants hemmed.

Did you freak out during that time and assemble a survival kit? Would you have made the Girl Scouts proud or would they have stripped you of all your badges and pelted you with Thin Mints?

At least you would have gotten some chocolate out of the deal.



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46 thoughts on “If I’m ever in charge of the survival of humanity, we are in serious trouble”

  1. Avatar

    Man, I’m reading this way too late in the night to make coherentish wittylike comments and am just laughing hysterically trying to read parts of this out loud to my husband who apparently cannot understand a durned word I’m saying whilst performing said laughing. I can only assume that the next emergency rations box you pack will contain everything you’re lacking and said box will be too heavy to lift. Also you need some cake in there.
    .-= Kearsie’s last blog post is here ..Gluttony, thy name is Kearsie =-.

  2. Avatar

    OMG! i am dying here! If i wake my son, it’s your fault! Best post yet!
    I must say though, that your survival kit is still better than mine, we have none.
    i dont even have all the important papers and crap in one spot.
    i know i can pack everything in a jiff, and working on getting us organized and thanks to you, i know what mistakes not to make!

  3. Avatar

    Heh. I take it your definition of disaster is the three hours the electricity goes off while they’re installing a new transformer, or something. That’s about how long that case would last ya… *giggles*

    Meanwhile, you’re making me feel guilty because I’m supposed to have tsunami/earthquake disaster kit(s) ready to go, and I have nothing. So at least you’re one leg (albeit a hairy one) up on me…
    .-= Heather T.’s last blog post is here ..Eeek! Opening at The DigiChick! (and a freebie) =-.

  4. Avatar

    Yeah, I gotta admit the same thing as the others… I don’t even have a survival kit packed! And I live in earthquake, fire, and mudeslide territory. For Shame! I guess I’ve just figured that with my luck, the house would collapse between me and the kit anyway! My purse, on the other hand, wows audiences regularly. My husband calls it my survival purse. If we are on a flight together and crash in the jungle, come to me, I’ll have what you need. At least… if the airlines allow me to bring everything on board! lol

  5. Avatar

    thanks for the laugh this morning! I never made a 911 kit, but in case of disaster today we have a gigantic Costco size package of toilet paper, a case of canned tomatoes (?) and all those cute little votive candle for warmth…at least my house will smell nice!
    .-= elizabeth’s last blog post is here ..Saucy Secrets! =-.

  6. Avatar

    Oh that’s funny! I’ll never forget the first time my husband and I went to visit my family in the winter. We were living in MD, but my family is in NWPA. I threw our boots, a shovel, a couple blankets, a jug of water, a flashlight, and a box of granola bars in the back seat. My husband thought I was nuts (let’s face it, other than this winter, MD doesn’t really get snow to speak of). That is until on Christmas Eve we were hit with a huge snowstorm, and right on the 6pm news they said not to go out unless you have to, and if you do, make sure you have water, power bars, a shovel, and a blanket. I just said, “I told you so.”
    .-= Amanda’s last blog post is here ..Army Fun Facts =-.

  7. Avatar

    HEE! Total paroxysms of mirth here! But *with* you and not *at* you, of course…

    I never did assemble any actual kit, but I do tend to carry a Survival Purse, a fact upon which my hubby has come to be a wee bit too reliant. Apparently, after spending 17 years and change with the Woman Who Can Whip Almost Anything Required out of Her Purse (sadly, George Clooney’s phone number has never materialized, hence the *almost*), he now expects that I can literally pull *anything* out when needed. He will now just turn to me and be all “Well? Don’t you have a road map of South America and the Sa-Sn volume of the 1987 World Book Encyclopedia? Pull ’em out already!” and I’m all “Dude. I can give you a wet wipe, antibiotic ointment and your pick of a wide assortment of Disney Princess bandages in waterproof or tattoo styles. I can feed you and a small army for about a week as long as you don’t mind eating raisins and slightly linty and smooshed PB crackers, then freshen your breath afterwards with your choice of gum or Listerine Pocket Pals, and should you get a raisin stuck betwixt your teeth, I can offer you floss. I can keep you entertained with not only crayons but also at least two colors of Play-Doh, even, andplay a wide variety of music for you courtesy of my iPod. Lips chapped? Eyes itchy? Skin dry? Gotcha covered, and should you suddenly sprout ovaries and a uterus, I can give you a wide selection of feminine hygiene products and pain relievers from which to choose. But a map of South America? WTH?” It cracks me up how he now expects me to have *anything* at any time, instantaneously. He’s spoiled, I suppose…

    I would be a great contestant on Let’s Make a Deal, that’s for sure. Paging Wayne Brady…..
    .-= Heather @ nobody-but-yourself’s last blog post is here ..Mostly Wordless Wednesday: I love a parade =-.

  8. Avatar

    You seem to have expected Armageddon to be over rather quickly, sort of day trip to Armageddon. I live near a nuclear reactor. I’m not in the evacuation zone but near enough that probably I will go visit relatives in another state for awhile should there be an incident. I have nothing packed though. I’m relying on my lightening fast panicked packing reflexes to get everything stuffed into suitcases and in the car within 5 minutes of the evacuation signal being given

    But the one thing that really strikes me about this post is this

    YOU LIVE NEAR 3 WEGMANS???? I have to drive 90 minutes to get one!
    .-= stacey@Havoc&Mayhem’s last blog post is here ..Artwork =-.

  9. Avatar

    OMG, it was so hard to get past the part about your uterus snorting milk…….I was laughing so hard! This is brilliant. Simply brilliant! You make me laugh.
    .-= Marlene’s last blog post is here ..Purple Power =-.

  10. Avatar

    I live in earthquake country, and have not one but TWO earthquake kits. One is in the car trunk, with all the essentials, copies of important papers, water, a couple changes of clothes, canned goods, a crank radio, batteries,etc. The other, in the house, has all of that duplicated, plus the photos I feel are most important to me and a few other things. However, I put these together about 3 years ago, so I would likely starve, since I am SURE all of the foodstuff is expired. I also do not remember if there are any medical supplies in there OOPS. Thanks for making me laugh with your post, and for reminding me that it is necessary to review my own emergency supplies occassionally!

  11. Avatar

    Oh Andy, you totally had me laughing. Kinda reminds me of my inlaws “winter weather kit” uh yeah, there’s a small shovel, 1 pair of gloves and 1 pair of ugly ass HUGE mens boots. I suppose that if we were stranded somewhere, I really wouldn’t care about what the boots look like, but man. Oh and I don’t have anything even remotely close to an emergency kit! I agree with Stacy…. I’m counting on my wicked fast packing abilities to get it all done. :p
    .-= Cheryl’s last blog post is here ..Wordless Wednesday =-.

  12. Avatar

    That looks like a box I would have packed!!! Batteries but nothing to put them in. No water but medicine. Diapers that would last a day at best! Well at least our sweet tooth wouldn’t have a problem with yummy granola bars!!!
    .-= Brittany’s last blog post is here ..Trying To Focus =-.

  13. Avatar

    This is Hilarious! This is so me, but hey at least you attempted to make a survival kit. I don’t have nothing, so I really feel for my family…lol! GREAT post!

  14. Avatar

    I love the phrases you come up with…2 weeks shy of forever! And the comment about Helena and the chocolate to go, with sprinkles. OMG, you kill me!! I’m about to head to bed and I needed a good laugh. You never disappoint me!

    I was totally wondering what the can opener was supposed to be used for when you didn’t have any canned items in there! Then you mentioned the same thing!
    .-= Helene’s last blog post is here ..1000 followers?! Seriously?! =-.

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  16. Avatar

    That is absolutely hysterical! Good for you for doing it even though it does seem that you had some gaps in there. I looked at the can opener and was a little puzzled as to what you were going to open.

    We have never prepared for anything more than a snowstorm or a hurricane or two but that was mainly because we live on a well so if our electricity goes out for any length of time, no water. We have had that happen a couple times over the years and have resorted to using the Coleman stove to heat water, etc., on. But that’s about it.
    .-= Sandy’s last blog post is here ..Dad Would Be Proud =-.

  17. Avatar

    This was hilarious! We have a puppy arriving next week too. And I find too that I’m behaving just like I did when 24 hours from delivery of my two children. The whole house is sparkling and well-organised…strange…
    .-= Louise’s last blog post is here ..Green boat =-.

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