Over the weekend Lacey spent a few hours at my cousin’s house. He has two kids, a lovely wife and a social life – so Ma went over to babysit and took Lacey with her.
I won’t lie. I loved the peace and quiet in her absence. I’m slowly going crazy these school holidays because I need a regular dose of quiet, otherwise it feels like my head might explode. Selfish, aren’t I?
The next morning, when she woke at home, she went straight to her backpack and started emptying bits and pieces she’d collected from their house. I still haven’t worked out whether they were taken with permission, or borrowed in a sneaky way. Hubby and I watched as she tipped out the contents of her bag; some tissues, a little sparkly purse, a swimming costume and then the next thing made us gasp. It might as well have been a decayed dead rat. We saw the ‘thing’, and then shot each other a look. A look of complete devastation. It was a harmonica. A HARMONICA.
When I was a nanny the kids had a harmonica. Oh the memories! I think I bought it for them one school holidays. Rookie error. It lasted all of half a day until I placed it high above a cupboard, within sight, but out of reach. It stayed in that spot until the day I left.
It’s hard to make a harmonica sound good. Much like a recorder really.
It’s actually been a weird harmonica-filled week. Just last week we were driving out of the car park of Bunnings when I saw a guy navigate quickly into the car park entrance and then take two hands off the steering wheel and straight onto his harmonica while still driving. That’s dedication. And dangerous. “Did you see that?” I gasped. “He might have been playing a REALLY important song?” Hubby replied with a chuckle.
And then on my child-free Saturday night I set myself up in bed with a movie, Seeking a Friend for the End of the World, and the leading actor played the instrument throughout. I thought to myself, ‘Is the harmonica really necessary?’
I think I’m allergic to them.
And then I woke the next morning to a harmonica in my house. I wanted to take a photo of it for this post, but right now it’s somewhere unknown. I assume Hubby has kindly hidden it from little hands. And I dare not try to find it, for fear it might get played… all day long.
I will find it though, and I will kindly sneak it back into my cousin’s house. It’s the right thing to do.