We went to church this last Sunday after what seems like a long absence. Don’t worry, if you’re reading this, this isn’t much of a sermon unless you’ve been wondering what to do in the event of a zombie apocalypse.
During Sunday School check-in, all children get a sticker that identifies them and parents get a matching set to present at pick-up. The matching set consists of two stickers that qualifies you to pick up your child. It’s a pretty strict policy. If you misplace your pick-up sticker, you have to prove yourself with a valid id, social security number, and blood type. Not quite, but close. It actually sets my mind at ease knowing that not just anyone can pick up our precious child.
My husband takes his set of stickers very seriously. He’s pretty demanding that he be in possession of one of the stickers – his half of the set. I used to think that he didn’t trust me. That maybe he thought I would lose the stickers, and we would have to jump through hoops to prove ourselves as parents. But it’s not that at all. He explained to me that he needs his sticker in case there is a nuclear explosion and one of us doesn’t make it. In the event that this happens, one of us needs to have a sticker in our possession in order to proceed through pick up smoothly.
I love the forethought. Nevermind that should that really happen, it would be a miracle that any of us would survive, but stranger things have happened.
So this past Sunday, I turned to him after we dropped off Lola and said, “Would you like your sticker in case of a zombie apocalypse?”
His response, “Yes, please. And if it’s me that doesn’t make it, head straight for the Dick’s Sporting Goods or Wal-Mart to pick up guns. Don’t worry about paying because during a zombie apocalypse, it’s every man for himself. Next head to the Toyota dealership and grab an FJ Cruiser….”
We were cut off before he could detail the remainder of the plan because we ran into someone I knew. I’m not quite sure what to do about gas, water, food or where to go. Hopefully we both survive.