My youngest daughter called me today, crying hysterically.
It took me a good several minutes to calm her down so that she can tell me what hurts.
Meanwhile, I am far from home and trying to think who I can call to take her to the ER.
She finally calms down enought to tell me she has broken..... the blender.
"OK, but are you hurt?" I repeat.
"No, but I broke the blender...." she bawls into the phone.
"It's just a thing," I tell her, but she is still crying.
"We'll get a new blender," I reassure her, "the important thing is that you are not hurt."
She's still crying when she blurts out, "but the blender was almost new..."
"Are you hurt?" I ask again, wondering if maybe she's bleeding. It was a glass blender.
"No," she repeats.
"Then don't worry," I say again, "we'll get another new blender."
----------------------------------------------------------------------
When I relay this conversation to my husband, he asks "Wasn't our blender kind of old?"
"No," I gently inform him, "we got rid of that one. She was using a new one."
*sigh*
(thanks to Treppenwitz, whose post inspired this one)
Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.
With love and optimism,
RivkA
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
1 comment:
Your reaction, of course, was correct. But it IS nice that she cared so much that she broke it. SOME people's children (ahem) would say, so, nu, I broke it, go out and buy a new one. And then SOME people would have to remind their children, again, that the money tree in the backyard died.
You still owe me a phone call, although I am hoping that this post answered my question.
Post a Comment