The Zombie Apocalypse

Prior to my first viewing of The Walking Dead last summer, I never gave disaster preparation much thought. I'd lived in California for twenty years and our emergency supplies consisted of a liter of water, a can of beans and a band aid. However, the plight of Rick and his crew changed things for me.

After some online research, I discovered that Costco.com sells dehydrated food in buckets. Dried fruit, dried veggies, dried meat! All varieties of powdered food with a shelf-life of twenty years! Oh, wondrous Costco!

I placed some orders and our buckets began to arrive via Costco courier. White buckets full of silver packets piled up.  I added a few bulk purchases of my own—a couple hundred pounds of dried beans and rice. The garage began to fill up.

Eventually, Mr. Snark noticed. "Why are you stockpiling food? Do you know something that I don't?"

Mrs. Snark kissed him to shut him up. "It's for the zombie apocalypse. Duh."

"Oh." Wearing a Don't-Ask expression, Mr. Snark shook his head and said. "Well, you're going to need a clean water supply to rehydrate your food."

Well, crap. There are moments when the man has moments of brilliant insight. What would happen to us if a rotting zombie fell down the well and ruined the water supply?  (Well, nothing really, because we draw our water from pipes.)

But still, Mr. Snark had a point.

Back online, back to Costco.com where it just so happens they sell water storage and purification kits. I placed my order and once again waited for the courier, hoping the whole time that meddling scientists didn't irrevocably alter human DNA before the purchase arrived.

Two weeks later, Mr. Snark found Mrs. Snark filling up a 5-gallon water bladder from the kitchen sink. He frowned and his jaw worked. Don't Ask warred with curiosity and the cat died. 

"What are you doing?" Mr. Snark asked.

"Filling this bag with clean water. We now own twenty of these 5-gallon containers."

"That's a hundred gallons of water," said Mr. Snark, once again proving that he can do math.

"Yes it is. Give me a hand."

"Exactly where do you intend to store this? The garage is already overflowing."

"I'm going to clear out the Harry Potter room under the stairs."

Mr. Snark opened his mouth, and then closed it and shook his head. "What's next? Survival training?" he asked.

Mrs. Snark's eyes lit up. "If the instructor is anything like Darryl, then sign me up!"