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We live in New England, so when a nor'easter blew through that was said to rival 1991's "Perfect Storm," we were ready. Or so we thought.

We lost our power around 10:30 in the morning, shortly after Dora ended, so Hamlet wasn't too upset. We spent the rest of the day chasing him around the house for fun, if only to distract him from the fact that we had no power, and eating what we could scrounge from the fridge, cans, and the last of our Easter candy.

Cabin fever drove us from the house at dinnertime. We found roads closed due to washouts and downed tree limbs and power lines. We'd planned to go to a diner for supper, figuring that the state road it was on would be open, but it wasn't. We ended up at Subway. The closest thing we could get to a hot dinner? Toasted sandwiches.

Nighttime was the real test, though. That's when all the zombie movies I'd ever watched and road-survival books I'd ever read came back to haunt me: in other words, the post-apocalyptic chickens had come home to roost. Lying awake after Boris' nursing sessions, I thought: what would we do with the two kids? Where would we go? Would we band together with other families, or find our best friends? How would we handle road cannibals or bandits?

The next morning found me still thinking along these lines, as I was about to pack 32-oz. juice bottles containing my son's favorite drink. I had to stop and remind myself that most of the stores still had power. And, while the local Dunkin' Donuts was an angry free-for-all, Borders contained civilized folk--including one woman whose son was attending Virginia Tech--tea, and books. Enough, for the time being, to recharge our batteries.

Although the evening made us question which was worse--stuck in a mall for 6 hours, or in a hotel room for 16, with a preschooler and a baby--at least we had a warm, safe, private place to stay. Others in our area wound up in school gymnasiums or other shelter spaces. Hamlet didn't quite understand why we couldn't go home, but still got to watch his afternoon TV. And we got to pretend we were on vacation. The hot bath helped. When power was restored the following night, we got to come home. No branches or wires had fallen on our house. No water had seeped into our basement. And we were a safe, intact family. Rain Dog's ruined April vacation? A small price to pay for those comforts.