broken things

poor 18-wheeler

poor 18-wheeler

I have no idea how the Hot Wheels truck bit it.  I just know that it happened in my house.  These things are made of metal…to withstand children’s play.  The last time I scrubbed Max’s room it was still intact.  Really, maybe I should be glad that it lasted as long as it did in this environment.  And when I turn it over, I actually feel a sense of pride.  It’s stamped with the date of 1979, and since 29 is the last brithday I will ever celebrate, I was born that year (in November)!  Hey, where the heck fire did I get a Hot Wheel from 1979?  I don’t remember hubby bringing a whole lot of toys into the marriage, well, okay, maybe that’s all he brought besides his clothes…but I don’t remember any small metal cars.  It is a mystery, and I honestly don’t care enough to solve it.  I just feel a tiny twinge of awe at the kind of damage my kiddos can do.  It did not go quietly into that good night…that’s for sure.  RIP Blue Hot Wheels truck from Malaysia in 1979.

I have a confession.  I know it’s dangerous, but I have a habit of walking and daydreaming at the same time.  Daydreaming is an incredibly important part of a writer’s day–okay, my day.  Which leads me to wonder if when I shop and daydream could I write off whatever is bought?  For example, I could think of a story about someone croaking from a soda pop overdose while I’m buying said soda pop.  Food for thought, anyway (get it?  food…har har).

Unfortunately I would never be able to claim anything that I bought in Wal-Mart.  For me, it seems to be a black hole of creativity. –quick side note: whoever decided to put the bread at the back of the store is not on my ‘people I like’ list.  It is stressful trying to get through the whole store without crushing my bread!–  Anyway, I don’t think I’m the only one with this problem considering the faces of the people I see.  Mostly they look like they might lose a little drool at any moment.  Sometimes you get the sweet grandma with a sweet smile, or the super-nice foreign lady who askes (using modified sign language–quite creative) where the straws are.  But for the most part, there are not a lot of people you would want to strike up a conversation with.

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2 Responses to “broken things”

  1. Sharla Says:

    RIP trusty Hot Wheels.

    I couldn’t even begin to compile a list of all the things my boys have destroyed. Some of the more significant (and interesting) would be:

    RIP 1 laptop. Moral of this story…don’t leave a glass of water near the computer when there’s a 2 year old about.

    RIP 1 IPOD. This one is still a mystery…a very expensive mystery.

    RIP 1 dining room chair. Who knew a 2 year old had so much muscle power?

    RIP 1 Royal Copenhgaen ceramic figurine and 1 heirloom teapot. Perhaps he really was “trying” to be careful…

    RIP 1 microfiber loveseat. We thought we were buying microfiber to withstand the kids! However, it was no match for the scissor wielding 4 year old.

    RIP every child proof gadget in existence. My 2 year old has defeated them all! This is a sad day.

    RIP 1 DVD player, 1 baby monitor, 4 dinner plates, 1 piano bench, 4 picture frames, 2 umbrellas, 2 cell phones, 1 Bible, countless DVDs, even more books, etc, etc, etc

    RIP mommy’s will to get out of bed in the morning. Damage control is exhausting work! ;-)

    Here’s what I have learned. Don’t have nice things. If you have nice things, keep them locked away. Don’t leave any source of liquid accessible. Turn the doorknob around on your kids door so the lock faces out. This may seem harsh, but, honestly, sometimes it’s the only way mommy gets a potty break without having to add to this list.

    Here’s what Jennifer has learned: Don’t babysit for Sharla.

  2. JLeigh Says:

    I can’t believe you remember ALL those things!!! You should make some money off the boys and hire them out to do demolition work :) .
    Jennifer will still babysit for Sharla if Sharla will trust Jennifer not to lose her boys!!!

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