It’s been 182 days since the outbreak of the “Z Virus” brought the plague of the living dead upon humanity. And to think, all summer, we were all so worried about h1n1! Stupidest 60 bucks I ever spent for those vaccines. Anyways, just because we are holed up in our house (well, now we call it “the bunker”) as humanity is backed up against a wall and on it’s last legs, doesn’t mean that we can’t try to spread some holiday cheer. Hold on, I’ll be right back, something’s scratching at the door…
Sorry about that, along with spreading holiday cheer, I find I’m forced to spread Zombie brains all over the pavement more often than ever before. This year, we were fortunate in that in spite of the legions of wandering dead we were still able to get out to San Diego for the Bouck family reunion at Disneyland. After retro-fitting our van with reinforced armor and some nifty spike extensions protruding from our tires, we were off. It was of course just our luck that as we were leaving Las Vegas (or as it’s known post apocalypse, “Lost Vegas”) one of the braineaters (newly reanimated, no doubt) crashed into the back of our van. Because of its newly reinforced body, we were back and on our way in no time after a short bit of community service performed with my grandpa’s 16 gauge. I have to say, the lines at post apocalypse Disneyland are much more bearable, as long as you bring the correct armaments to clear out any of the infected waiting in line. I will say, it is a pain to drag around a P-90 and M-16 to all the attractions.
Alora started pre-school this year and is doing great in not only the traditional ABC’s and 123’s, but also the newer curriculum of Zombie dispersal and clean up. She has memorized her part for her Christmas program along with the ABC’s of survival (A is for annhiliation, B is for “Be aware”, C is for “Carefully avoid the undead”). In fact, of all the members of our family, I am the least worried about Alora. Zombies are notorious for stopping for nothing or no one, but one day as we dropped her off for pre-school one of the undead came at us unexpectedly from behind a large bush. Alora gave that lurking braineater one of the dirtiest looks I have ever seen, and so help me, it turned away. I have never seen that before, and doubt that I’ll ever see it again.
James is becoming quite the little man. He loves to attend his Kindergarten class when he’s not manning the bunker’s sniper perch with me. People derided me before for all of the video games, but who’s laughing now? All those other parents don’t have the best sharpshooter in the neighborhood picking off lurching mutant hordes, now do they! James is writing well and reading exceptionally. Some of his favorite books currently are “Curious George and the Undead Invasion” and “Where the Undead Things Are” by Maurice Sendak.
Rochelle is keeping it together quite well, considering life has become more or less a daily horror movie, which I am pretty sure ranks exactly dead last in her list of favorite things. The turning point for her in my opinion was this year’s Girls’ camp, which was decidedly more survival skills based this time around. Imagine my reaction when Rochelle told me that she had singlehandedly fended off a Zombie outbreak in the dead of night, protecting those little Beehives she was in charge of like some kind of She-Rambo on Human Growth Hormone. She got a special mention in our most recent Stake Conference as most of the other Wards were decimated by the rotting plague.
And what about me? Well, most everything in my life up to this point has prepared me for this eventuality, having read “World War Z: An Oral History of the Zombie War”, “The Zombie Survival Guide”, and “Pride and Prejudice and Zombies” earlier this year. People just thought I was some kind of psycho on facebook, but I of course was vindicated, much to my dismay. Being a Spanish teacher post apocalypse is eerily not too different from what it was before. Sure, I have a weapons locker now, and I have to keep certain students from gnawing on each other, but just a couple of weeks ago I was surprised to find that the only student in one of my Spanish 1 classes that understood the difference between tú and Usted was in fact one of the infected. That fact alone stopped me from putting it down on the spot. The Deans’ office is much more lively, from what I understand.
Well, the pounding on the doors and rattling of the windows tells me it’s time to fire up the flamethrower and make sure Roch and the kids have their Kevlar vests, riot gear, and anti-zombie armaments. Here’s hoping that this Christmas seasons finds you and yours alive and un-gnawed. Seasons greetings (and bleedings)!