How a Bombshell deals with tragedy…

Bombshell – Day 29

This picture of me in my bombshell-y dress with a Bombshell-y bow in my hair and my Bombshell-y luggage was taken with my iphone.



Because during Thanksgiving dinner last night, my son, August, broke my camera.  It’s the camera I bought last year specifically for my blog.  The one I’ve taken all my fashionable (and oh so not fashionable) pictures on and the camera that I’ve grown quite attached to.  I wasn’t so mad about the camera breaking as I was sad — it was like watching a friend die in my hands, making weird electronic death rattle noises as I tried in vain to keep it alive by saying things like, “You’ll be okay, buddy.  Just breathe.  A helicopter from Best Buy is on it’s way to help you.”

It all happened so innocently.  My husband and I thought it would be fun to go away for Thanksgiving this year and have dinner in a fancy restaurant.  And, as we all know, Thanksgiving dinner can be a long, tedious affair for children, so I brought chalk boards for everyone and boxes of fun, colorful chalk.  This proved to be a welcome surprise for Buck and Emerson, but for August, “chalk board fun” lasted for about five minutes… before the waiter had even arrived with our water.  August yanked his tie on and off his head for another three minutes and then he was pretty much done with Thanksgiving altogether.


But I wanted a meal… you know, that someone else cooked… that I didn’t have to clean up… so I gave August the only other interesting thing I had in my purse… my camera… I told myself he’d be fine with it.  After all, August has had to take my picture with this camera all year long and he hasn’t broken it yet…   “Yet” being probably the most vexing word in the lives of parents everywhere…

I saw it all happen too late.  I saw August zooming in to take a close up picture of his sweet potato and in slow motion, I saw the camera drop into the sweet potato… and gravy… and cranberry sauce… and then, in even slower motion, I saw August start to lick the camera clean as if he had just discovered a really expensive fork.

You know, before I had kids if someone had told me they let their child play with their camera and had broken it, I would have thought, Why would anyone give a four year old a camera to play with?  Of course they are going to break it!  Why, when I have children I will never do things like that.  In fact, my children are going to be so well behaved in restaurants that the possibility of having to give them my camera to play with at a restaurant won’t even exist!  They will be perfect children and I will be a perfect parent!

After having kids, if someone told me that they gave their child their camera to play with at a restaurant and they broke it I would say —

“Oh, that’s too bad.  I hope you were at least able to enjoy your appetizer.”


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