Closed Captioned Cameras
I have a confession to make: I’m a bad news junkie. I know that there are many women out there who prided themselves about being informed of the events of the day, but once their babies were born, became unable to emotionally handle all the horrible things happening in the world. I, on the other hand, seem to be more drawn to these horrible stories now that I’m a mom because it keeps me in a proper state of panic.
Gone are the days of ‘Stranger, Danger’, I now have myself convinced that the guy reading our meter is secretly plotting some heinous crime.
You can imagine my devastation the first time my 6 and 7 year old sons insisted they were old enough to go in the Men’s Room at Walmart by themselves. “Not until you have a whistle.” I insisted.
Upon deeper reflection, I realized that in this day of digital everything, why not combine the electronic masterpiece of Closed Caption TV with the ingenuity of digital cameras. A Closed Captioned Camera. Just point and click and a caption about that person will appear at the base of the photo.
Snap! DIRTY OLD MAN WHO LOOKS AT NASTY MAGAZINES
“I’m sorry sir, but you’ll have to wait out here until my sons are done in the bathroom”
Snap! RETIRED NAVY OFFICER BUYING CHRISTMAS GIFTS FOR SHUT-INS
“Thank you sir, you may proceed…Er, and will you please make sure my boys aren’t having a water fight in there?”
This device would also be very helpful at the park and playgroups. Just hang back and start taking pictures so that you can direct which group of children your kids should play with.
Snap! OBEDIENT LITTLE GIRL WHO LOVES BABY DOLLS AND WANTS TO MARRY A MISSIONARY.
“Josh, go play with her and BE POLITE!”
Snap! NAUGHTY LITTLE BOY WHO GOT A BB GUN FOR HIS BIRTHDAY
“Will, don’t play with him, but let’s see….” Snap! VERY SAD BOY WHOSE PUPPY RAN AWAY “go share your cookies with that little boy over there”
Of course I realize that this device could backfire on me. I’m sure at some point I will be the unknowing subject of another panicked mommy at the park.
Snap! STAY AT HOME MOM DESPERATE FOR ADULT CONVERSATION. WARNING! WILL SUCK THE LIFE OUT OF YOU!!
Friday, November 30, 2007
Sunday, November 4, 2007
Broken Trust
**The following events have been given a small amount of artistic license, however, this is an accurate account of events as they happened…in my heart**
Brett and I will celebrate our 10th anniversary this year. It is a momentous occasion to be able to claim a full decade of marriage and I’ve been looking forward to this landmark for, well, the past 10 years. However, all of this was put into jeopardy just this morning.
It was a beautiful Sunday morning and as last night was daylight savings, we got a full extra hour of sleep. What could possibly be wrong with the world when you can actually wake up feeling somewhat refreshed? We decided to stay home from church and have a nice breakfast and just hang out with the kids. After a big family breakfast, the boys decided to go outside and bury the little money they had in the backyard. Brett and I spent the rest of the morning hanging out on the couch and enjoying the quiet.
I got up to go to the bathroom and in the one moment it took for me to glance in the mirror as I passed, the entire trust structure of my marriage crumbled. There on my chin was the biggest, most bulbous whitehead I have ever seen on anyone’s, much less my own, face!! This thing could have been charted on a topographical map and given it’s own coordinates!
As alarming as the discovery of something so heinous on my face, the true devastation was in the fact that I have spent an entire morning with a man who did not deem it necessary to inform me that a creature must have drilled into my face and laid an entire nest of eggs underneath my skin as I slept!
After collecting the shards of my broken heart, I marched into the living room, and through a bevy of tears, confronted this man I once trusted with my life.
“How (sob!) COULD you?!?” (hiccup!)
He slowly diverts his eyes from his book and looks up at me like a man who has no idea his world has crashed around him.
“What?”
I remove the wad of tissue from my now bleeding chin and let the crater speak for itself.
“Oh, that. I thought you knew”
“THOUGHT I KNEW???? Do you not know me at ALL??”
It is now that it begins to dawn on him, that all may not be well. Concern begins to wrinkle his brow and he gets the glazed look that indicates his desperate search for the right thing to say. After several agonizingly silent moments, it becomes clear to me that he is not going to find it.
With resignation and deep hurt I whisper “I trusted you”.
“You CAN trust me!” he desperately responds, “I just thought that you already knew about it and decided to leave it alone for once.”
“So, it’s come to that has it?” My deep wounds begin to numb with the balm of anger, “You think I no longer care about how I look? That I don’t care if you’re attracted to me??”
“NO! I know you care about how you look!”
“OH! So YOU don’t care about how I look! You’ve given up on me??” Pause. “Is there someone else?”
“Andrea, come on, this is ridiculous, it’s just a pimple!”
Incredulous, I respond “A pimple? You really think this is all about a PIMPLE?? It is our marriage and the fact that the basic foundation of trust has been completely SHATTERED!”
He drops his head as he has a hundred times in the past and resignedly states “Ok, what’s it gonna take?”
I stand up straight and with as much dignity as I can muster, state “Dinner AND a movie.”
Heavy sigh, “Ok. When?”
My anger flares, “I think under the circumstances as soon as possible!" I calm down a little and decide to drop the bomb, "That’s not all. I want the movie to be a romantic comedy.”
It is here that he finally comes alive, “What?! A click flick??”
I slowly lower the blood soaked tissue and reveal the gash that is clearly in need of stitches and raise my left eyebrow.
He is beaten and he knows it. He begins to slowly nod his head and quietly says that he’ll call his mom to see if she can watch the kids. He opens his mouth to say something, then changes his mind, gets up and walks across the room to the phone.
I turn my back to him and walk to the window and look out at our children shoving dollar bills into the muddy depths of the sandbox. A weary sigh escapes me and I look over my shoulder to see my husband talking on the phone in hushed tones.
A disaster averted. A marriage saved.
I turn back to the window and focus on the falling leaves of the trees, ‘But for how long?’ I think. ‘Until the next salad I eat? Will I always have to wonder if there is spinach in my teeth? Chocolate on my blouse?’
I straighten at the sound of Brett hanging up the phone. He comes to my side and takes my hand.
“It’s all arranged” I turn toward him as the sun breaks through a cloud and bathes our silhouette in soft, warm light.
Brett gazes deeply into my eyes and lovingly says “You have a big piece of goop in the corner of your eye”.
I try to choke back my tears of gratitude and put my head on his shoulder.
All is well. All is well.
Brett and I will celebrate our 10th anniversary this year. It is a momentous occasion to be able to claim a full decade of marriage and I’ve been looking forward to this landmark for, well, the past 10 years. However, all of this was put into jeopardy just this morning.
It was a beautiful Sunday morning and as last night was daylight savings, we got a full extra hour of sleep. What could possibly be wrong with the world when you can actually wake up feeling somewhat refreshed? We decided to stay home from church and have a nice breakfast and just hang out with the kids. After a big family breakfast, the boys decided to go outside and bury the little money they had in the backyard. Brett and I spent the rest of the morning hanging out on the couch and enjoying the quiet.
I got up to go to the bathroom and in the one moment it took for me to glance in the mirror as I passed, the entire trust structure of my marriage crumbled. There on my chin was the biggest, most bulbous whitehead I have ever seen on anyone’s, much less my own, face!! This thing could have been charted on a topographical map and given it’s own coordinates!
As alarming as the discovery of something so heinous on my face, the true devastation was in the fact that I have spent an entire morning with a man who did not deem it necessary to inform me that a creature must have drilled into my face and laid an entire nest of eggs underneath my skin as I slept!
After collecting the shards of my broken heart, I marched into the living room, and through a bevy of tears, confronted this man I once trusted with my life.
“How (sob!) COULD you?!?” (hiccup!)
He slowly diverts his eyes from his book and looks up at me like a man who has no idea his world has crashed around him.
“What?”
I remove the wad of tissue from my now bleeding chin and let the crater speak for itself.
“Oh, that. I thought you knew”
“THOUGHT I KNEW???? Do you not know me at ALL??”
It is now that it begins to dawn on him, that all may not be well. Concern begins to wrinkle his brow and he gets the glazed look that indicates his desperate search for the right thing to say. After several agonizingly silent moments, it becomes clear to me that he is not going to find it.
With resignation and deep hurt I whisper “I trusted you”.
“You CAN trust me!” he desperately responds, “I just thought that you already knew about it and decided to leave it alone for once.”
“So, it’s come to that has it?” My deep wounds begin to numb with the balm of anger, “You think I no longer care about how I look? That I don’t care if you’re attracted to me??”
“NO! I know you care about how you look!”
“OH! So YOU don’t care about how I look! You’ve given up on me??” Pause. “Is there someone else?”
“Andrea, come on, this is ridiculous, it’s just a pimple!”
Incredulous, I respond “A pimple? You really think this is all about a PIMPLE?? It is our marriage and the fact that the basic foundation of trust has been completely SHATTERED!”
He drops his head as he has a hundred times in the past and resignedly states “Ok, what’s it gonna take?”
I stand up straight and with as much dignity as I can muster, state “Dinner AND a movie.”
Heavy sigh, “Ok. When?”
My anger flares, “I think under the circumstances as soon as possible!" I calm down a little and decide to drop the bomb, "That’s not all. I want the movie to be a romantic comedy.”
It is here that he finally comes alive, “What?! A click flick??”
I slowly lower the blood soaked tissue and reveal the gash that is clearly in need of stitches and raise my left eyebrow.
He is beaten and he knows it. He begins to slowly nod his head and quietly says that he’ll call his mom to see if she can watch the kids. He opens his mouth to say something, then changes his mind, gets up and walks across the room to the phone.
I turn my back to him and walk to the window and look out at our children shoving dollar bills into the muddy depths of the sandbox. A weary sigh escapes me and I look over my shoulder to see my husband talking on the phone in hushed tones.
A disaster averted. A marriage saved.
I turn back to the window and focus on the falling leaves of the trees, ‘But for how long?’ I think. ‘Until the next salad I eat? Will I always have to wonder if there is spinach in my teeth? Chocolate on my blouse?’
I straighten at the sound of Brett hanging up the phone. He comes to my side and takes my hand.
“It’s all arranged” I turn toward him as the sun breaks through a cloud and bathes our silhouette in soft, warm light.
Brett gazes deeply into my eyes and lovingly says “You have a big piece of goop in the corner of your eye”.
I try to choke back my tears of gratitude and put my head on his shoulder.
All is well. All is well.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
