Tag Archives: jaws of death

The Dangers of Splurging

Made the much-dreaded trip to Bed Bath and Beyond today. It turned out to be not nearly as painful as expected. For me. MJ wasn’t so lucky: I clocked her on the head with a new Dyson Animal Vacuum Cleaner while attempting to wrestle it into our cart. She was fine after the initial shock. I think she enjoyed the trip.

Alas, her Dyson-related injuries didn’t stop there. I was so excited/titillated/horrified by how much money I’d spent — even with a 20% off coupon — on our new appliance (and — ahem — a few other items) that I lost track of her at the playground later. For one second. During which time she fell down some steps.

OK, I’ll be more specific. And truthful. At the moment she fell I was texting. I know. I hate parents who walk around the playground gaping stupidly at their iphones while, nearby, their kids hover at the jaws of death. It is totally irresponsible. And selfish. And reprehensible. And today, I was that parent.

What was I texting, you ask, that was worth endangering my dear girl’s neck? Something crucial? Something life-altering?

Something to my husband: “Got the vacuum! Also Xmas lights $2 a box!”

A short missive. But not short enough. MJ took her tumble just as I was trying to find the $ symbol on my phone. (Because no, I do not have an iphone. In that one way, at least, I am better than those other parents. I do my texting on a piece of crap). Fortunately, she was unhurt. Other than a scrape on the head. OK, two.

I’ll be honest again, though. I was really worked up. If she not fallen at that particular moment the text might have continued:

“Got more wrapping paper, too. 70% off! It’s Santa Claus and cookies. We’ll use it for acquaintances. Whose opinions don’t matter. ¬†Also peppermint bark for the postman. To go with his tip. For which I hope you have cash, because I do not, and I promised it to him three days ago. With a card. Which I also don’t have. Does anyone like peppermint bark? Anyway. It was cheap! Got more clothespins, too. I am all about hanging the clothes to dry. Even though the clothesline is in a concrete wasteland near the trash cans. Smells. Still, saves energy! Also an ironing board. 20% off! I will press all of your shirts now. They will no longer hang about in twos and threes — melancholy, wrinkled ghosts reminding us of our failures. Those days are over. And the doghair in the rug days, too. Over! And the days where we don’t tip our postman. OVER! And — ”

And I could’ve gone on. Anxiety makes me verbose. Luckily for Mike, I didn’t. Luckily for me, MJ doesn’t have a concussion. Luckily for MJ, I splurge like this once a year. Maybe twice.

Next time I’ll bring a helmet.