Dear Utility Workers,

I just wanted to write to say thank you for all of your hard work over these last few days, since that freak snow storm that knocked out everybody's power, including ours, forcing H and I to eat enough brie and short ribs for eight people, after our dinner party had to be cancelled. It was rough, let me tell you. Plowing through all that wine wasn't easy either.

What I realized, when I was drunkenly ruminating about all the work that would have to be done over the next week to put everything right, is that we have quite a lot in common, your purveyors of energy, and we mothers. Like us, you make everything work. Without you, we are are cold, dirty and hungry. There is no dinner, no clean underwear, no baths. There are no parties or play dates when there are no lights. And also like us, if you are doing your job right no one notices. We don't all walk around marveling, "Well look at all this nice lamp light", or "I sure do love this all heat and hot water." Just like in my life, when no one notices the carefully packed school lunches or clean socks until I go on a trip or am half-dead with illness (although, unlike you, I do not get sick days and would still be cutting out dinosaur-shaped peanut butter and jelly sandwiches while coughing up a lung). Our existence goes completely unnoticed and unappreciated until something goes wrong and then, we are met with a chorus of complaints. Of course, there is no resultant tidal wave of praise and new respect for all that we do once everything is put right. It's just life as usual for the multitudes we care for.

So my hat is of to you, you hard-hatted angels. I see what you do and, since I made the realization, will now offer up a silent prayer of gratitude every time I need twenty-three minutes of peace in the form of Super Why, press the button on the remote and the TV actually turns on.

Best,
MM