When my kids were little and the power would go out, they would scream with delight and run around the house with flashlights, sliding on the tile floors in their footed pajamas.

The last time the power went out, my high schooler screamed all right. But it was not with delight. She was in a panic.

Because, you see, now a power outage is a life-changing event, necessitating driving somewhere with power and internet. (I try not to wax nostalgic about the days when homework did not necessitate wifi.)

“Mooooo-ooooom!” She screamed.

I was already at her door, asking her if she wanted to go to Starbucks or Grandma’s house.

She is 14, so she picked Starbucks. (And before you think that is unfair to Grandma, please be assured that Grandma is the one who got her hooked on Starbucks in the first place.)

I get it. Starbucks is closer. Also, they have Starbucks drinks.

And food.

So she packed up her laptop and a backpack full of books, and we hit the road.

Well, this particular power outage happened to happen during a grass fire that was affecting our immediate area, so when we turned off our street, heading toward the Starbucks on Comanche Drive, we were almost immediately blocked by emergency vehicles and had to turn around and head toward the Mt. Vernon Starbucks.

Only, it turns out that the Mt. Vernon Starbucks does not have electrical outlets. (And electricity, you may remember, was the entire point of leaving the house in the first place).

It just so happens that my daughter’s laptop battery has a four-minute lifespan, so we headed to the Bakersfield College library in search of electrical outlets and wifi (but not before ordering a coffee, a sandwich, and a pastry–for her–and an ice water for me).

As we were about to pull into the Bakersfield College parking lot, we got a call from my husband who told us that the power had come back on, so we headed all the way home instead.

Only, when we got there, he confessed that the internet was down. So we got back in the car and headed back toward the Bakersfield College library. (No words were exchanged. Maybe words were thought. Maybe even expressed telepathically. But no actual words were spoken. Like with actual sound.)

As we were driving back to BC, I suggested to my daughter that she check the library hours on her phone, and it turned out that they were closed. So she called Grandma, who said, “Come on over,” which we did. Only, by the time we got there, we had already spent two hours driving around, and it was getting dark already.

So she did her work and we went home and the fire had been put out and there was power and internet at home and we all went to bed and everything was ok again.

Until the next afternoon when we lost power again. (I wish I were making this up.)

This time I looked at my husband and said something (and not just in my mind but out loud).  “Do you think it might be your turn to take Overachiever Child to a Place with Electricity?”

And he did.