The Pamper Pirate and I had the most insane week. What started out as our goodbye tour of the coast ended quite abruptly last Wednesday evening with the arrival of Hurricane Zeta. While the Pamper Pirate snoozed on bed next to me, I listened to the shingles ripping off the roof at my parent’s house. I tried reading through the ordeal but it was difficult to concentrate on anything and I found myself hovering over the Pamper Pirate every time I thought the roof was going to blow or something come crashing through the window.
We were lucky. We were lucky that nothing happened beyond damage to the house and pool and that it happened as late in the season that it did. Post-Katrina brought insufferable heat and humidity; we did not have to contend with that post-Zeta.
My husband and I called an audible and booked the Pamper Pirate and I on the first flight out of Gulfport-Biloxi airport. Kudos to the team there who was operating sans power, on generator, and doing everything manually. I was amazed that when we got to DC, all four of our checked pieces of luggage were the first out.
Four pieces of luggage in addition to the weekender, diaper bag, purse, and baby carrier I used to tote the Pamper Pirate from D terminal to A terminal at Hartsfield-Jackson airport. I do not recommend flying solo with a seven month old during a pandemic but fleeing a state of emergency on the coast is a circumstance that calls for such drastic action.
As I type, my parents are still sans power, with a dead generator, bottled water running low, and a tarp on the roof. But they got through August 29, 2005 and they will get through this.
I did pack our Halloween costumes: mommy and baby Jeff Spicoli. Per usual, the Pamper Pirate is private and we decided not to publicly show photos, but he matched me right down to the baby checkered Vans. Hola, Mr. Hand! 🍕