Friday, 4 September 2009
On the eve of our scheduled 8 hour car-ferry-car trip to the Okanagan, Fergus spilled his milk. This, or something similar, happens every day at our house - to the point where it is no longer reasonable, fashionable or otherwise to cry over spilt milk. A shrug, a wipe, some proactive cries of “it was an accident” and the whole scene is over and done with. On this occasion however, the bevie landed smack down on his portable DVD player, the inner workings of which soaked up all the milky yumminess and ceased working almost immediately.
Our kiddos like the movies. They are crazy for books and nuts about outdoor adventuring, but... they do like themselves some serious screen time. And as much as I enjoy the idealistic notion of the four of us playing “I spy”, admiring the countryside on long distance road trips, and maybe even singing us some Guns n’ Roses, ye olde portable DVD players come in mighty handy when the getting from A to B seems dull and monotonous from the cheap seats. So having just gotten 483 DVDs out of the library and having planned the trip to within an inch of its life in order to satisfy Mr. Fidget Wonkham-Strong back there, he goes and renders his player deceased... demised... expired... passed on... shuffled off 'is mortal coil (lovely plumage though!). I admit, I screamed a tiny bit when it happened (never a proud parenting moment when your offspring turtle under the cushions of the couch). Anyway, we all need to spend the wee hours of a night once in a while mopping up, blow-drying and draining liquids out of electronic equipment.
But sometime in between said spillage and lengthy road trip, Eff and Ferg came up with a plan - a detailed itinerary of dvd player sharing, craft constructing and colouring. A very cute moment for the memory banks.
Unnecessary however as it turns out, since his machine somehow miraculously fired up the next day and we ended up having Curious George dueling with Robin Hood Men in Tights on the ride up.
But cute nonetheless.