Mightier Than The Pen

Making The World A Bitter Place

Sorry, the Dragons Ate Your Stuff

with one comment


Dear Stu,

Thank you for leaving your fragile possessions in our home since last summer. At the time you said you’d get them within a month or two, but I know how things tend to get dragged out and inconveniently timed. That’s why I’m sure you’ll understand when I tell you there’s nothing remotely useful remaining from those boxes once my children began using the contents as playthings.

At first my wife and I were exceedingly diligent about keeping the kids out of the room where we’d stowed the boxes for you. That room doubles as my home office, so during significant portions of the day I had no problem preventing, for example, the two-year-old from trashing your cassette collection.

But as you clearly know, people have a way of letting their commitment slide. The room also serves as the kids’ library, and a few toys and games find their way in from time to time. So you will be pleased to know that as time went on, we had to worry about fewer and fewer mishaps involving your stuff.

It began in September, when the aforementioned toddler discovered that when one throws a cassette across the room, the plastic breaks and the magnetic tape spools unravel. I should have recorded the data for posterity, but unfortunately I forgot to note how many times the tape spanned the length of the room when completely undone. Foolishly, I neglected to compare the results of a sixty-minute tape to those of a ninety-minute tape, not to mention the relative lengths of those two Bon Jovi albums. What I can tell you is that twenty of your cassettes, broken, tangled and collected in a box, occupied about as much volume as two completely destroyed picture albums.

The albums appear to contain photos of a youthful Stu and some young women in the 14-17 range; in the last ten years your taste in women has clearly not changed much, but that is neither here nor there. My four-year-old, not content to let the two-year-old have all the fun, followed his lead in using your seashell collection to scratch, cut and otherwise mutilate every image and page in the albums. They then proceeded to jump on the shells, crushing them into unrecognizable bits of organic mineral matter. Also, my daughter cut her finger on one of the shards and the blood stained your books. Happily, you needn’t worry about the books, as the children later proceeded to tear them apart and fill the trash bin with the crumpled pages.

I know you must be worried that your breakable possessions might have harmed such delightful children, but be assured the seashell incident was the only one that resulted in any injury. To them, anyway: your playing cards clogged our toilet and your flatbed scanner made a terrific noise as it tumbled over the railing, down three floors and smashed all over the basement floor. Thank God no one was underneath at the time; the pieces flew everywhere. We’re still finding shards of plastic and glass these two months later.

We do still have the boxes for you. Despite the chaos and violence, those two cardboard cartons proved sturdier than anything they contained. You’re welcome to come by anytime to pick them up.

But I’m not holding my breath.

Thag

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Written by Thag

February 1, 2012 at 4:46 pm

One Response

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  1. Nothing breaks better than other people’s stuff. It’s a good lesson in letting go of material things. You have to start somewhere, so it’s good to start with letting go of other people’s stuff. 😉

    Lorna's Voice

    February 2, 2012 at 4:18 pm


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