There’s something comforting about a grilled cheese and bacon sandwich.
As I was slicing cheese and frying the bacon, all the while humming that 1972 ‘Poseidon Adventure’ hit ‘There’s Got to Be a Morning After’, I thought of Shelley Winters in her avoir du pois middle-age, not-so-dexterously climbing ladders and trying to fit her shape (round is a shape) through narrow openings underwater. It was, frankly, reassuring.
Our homes, to which we are confined, are upright, the lights are on and the sump pump takes care of any superfluous water in the basement. There are no random fires burning, no gas leaks, no sea serpents.
All right, I’m being hyperbolic with the latter, but when it comes right down to it, we are all right at this moment.
Is that a resounding slap of hands on foreheads I hear, (remember, don’t touch your face!) and cries of, “You’ve got to be kidding!”
I understand. Our situation is grave, dire, even. However, it’s not ‘The Towering Inferno’, there are no meteors heading our way and tidal waves are all out at sea.
These are things to be thankful for.
Shannon Lee Mannion