I shoved the vacuum powerhead across the floor in my 13-year-old daughter’s room. She had just finished tidying the place—no need to stoop down to pick up stray books or toys or make-up or pencils. I set myself on automatic pilot and my mind on my next Toastmasters’ speech.Clunk, grind, clunk, clunk. Whoops. What are those little metal things on the floor? What’s this wire hanging out of the powerhead? I had vacuumed up the headset for Lizzy’s ipod. I felt a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach—you know that feeling that comes with dollar signs attached. Why do kids these days have such expensive toys?
I turned off my machine and unwound the wire from the roller brush. I gathered up the wire and six little metal parts. I found my daughter downstairs on the computer.
“Lizzy, I’m so sorry, I destroyed your earphones.” I showed her the 7 pieces.
“That’s hilarious,” she said. “It was sort of broken anyway. Janna has tons of them. She gets them free when she flies to visit her grandparents in Florida. I’ll just get another set from her.”
Sometimes I feel so out of touch.
2 comments:
I really like this story Marian! I remember a similar experience in my life to do with vacuuming up pennies in my twin daughters' bedroom. :)
A too-often-true-to-my-life scenario, Marian!
The 'from horror to relief' ending is great. But, hmm, mine sure haven't always turned out that way.
Thanks, I still feel your smile of relief. :)
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