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Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Where for art thou Potato Peeler?

I've already given you some idea of how totally A1 my parenting of my first school aged child is.
Never one to worry about my image (because it's a bit late for that now, isn't it!) – here’s my latest discovery / failure / oops did I really let that happen?
I spent quite some time deeply distressed about losing a valued and much loved thing.  It wasn't one of my kids.  It wasn't a piece of jewellery or cherished photographs or anything like that.

It was this

This is my beloved in red - as I am without camera, I couldn't take a pic of my green machine and could only find it in red online.  Which is probably for the best, so I can protect it's identity from would-be kidnappers

It was my favourite potato peeler.  A see thru bright green plastic peeler that cost me the equivalent of $1.30 at some Asian market.  I loved it deeply, and it was with me through many, many meals.  Ably assisting me in shredding the crap out of every vegetable I could find to hide in dinner.  Yes, I know I could've just grated the vegetables, but this is how much I loved this peeler.  IT never ever once tried to include my flesh in the menu like the grater has done (and still does when I’m looking for my wine glass and not watching what I’m doing).
I searched the entire house for this beloved family member (yep, I said it, family member).  I even cleaned out my cupboards searching for it - and that's the kind of place where, once you go in, you may not actually come out again.  I went through the bin looking for it – the big bin, filled with the week’s rubbish, which had been sitting in the sun for almost a week in temperatures of around 27 degrees (C…not F, for my US followers – I’m no mathematical genius, and am a self diagnosed slight-dyslexic, so best Google the equivalent for yourselves).  Suffice to say, that shit was bad.
Anyway I never found it.  After grieving for some time, I moved on.  I reacquainted myself with my old peeler.  It ignored me for a while, probably all hurt at clearly being tossed aside for a better, younger model.  But after a while, we were back in sync, we were allies again.
This all took place in November 2010.

I am pleased to report, that at 2:56pm (WST) on Thursday 3 March 2011 I was reunited with my beloved green plastic peeler.
There were some tears (mine), and only partially because I nicked my finger on it.  They were mostly due to the overwhelming emotion of being reunited after coming to terms with the fact that it wasn't meant to be.
Where did I find it, after tearing my house apart and going through an entire week’s family refuse looking for it?
In Miss5’s school backpack.
Which goes a ways to dobbing me in for how often I clean that thing out.
I am sincerely grateful I wasn't called into the School Principal’s office for a “please explain” on why my Miss5 was bringing sharp objects to school.  Which would've no doubt been followed by a quick assessment on whether or not she was harbouring any malice or ill-will towards anyone.  Which she doesn't, except for the kid who called her Jellyfish – he should probably watch his back.
I have no idea how it got in there in the first place, or why.  It’s not completely out of the realm of possibility to assume that Miss5 was planning yet ANOTHER mullet haircut for herself, and since I’d hidden all the scissors and moved the knives, nail clippers and letter opener out of arms reach, she was resorting to her next best, next sharpest hairdressing tool of choice.
Regardless, I am taking my beloved peeler in to be micro-chipped, so we will never be torn apart again.

1 comment:

  1. LOL, love it! I spent a good 10 minutes tearing the place up looking for Seagull's water bottle this morning as I had to pack it in his bag for childcare. I was not at all impressed with Mr Sidetracked as he is the one who gave him the drink bottle which I tend to keep away on the days Seagull isn't in childcare so that I can find it easily on the days he does go.

    Anyway, after about 10 minutes, I remembered that he had dumped it in the basket underneath the side-by-side pram prior to laying down in Wombat's side and pretending to be a "bubby". The sucky thing about it is until we get the main family car back from the smash repairers, I have to drive Mr Sidetracked to work and he was halfheartedly helping me to look, but mainly tapping his foot and asking if Seagull really needed his drink bottle.

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