by Kerry Dougherty

Unexpected guests show up and you have nothing to serve them. Suddenly, you remember your hurricane supplies.

It’s happened to all of us.

Next thing you know, you’re on your hands and knees in a desperate search for emergency snacks.

I know there are crackers in here somewhere. Oh look, peanuts!

Days later, you’re craving a tuna sandwich and remember that big can of Bumblebee. Then one of the grandkids gets a new battery-operated toy and you grab a pack of fresh AAs. 

The electricity blinks off and you fish out a flashlight.

That’s the way raids on your hurricane stash start. Here’s how they inevitably finish:

You turn on the TV one day and find Jim Cantore lashed to a lamp post on the boardwalk as a Cat 3 bears down on Hampton Roads. You’re off to the supermarket with all the other unprepared storm schlumps, filling your cart with an embarrassing amount of toilet paper and instant coffee.

After more than 40 years in hurricane country I’ve finally figured out why this happens.

We’re not savers. Continue reading.