I Threw My Phone

I threw my phone … then I cried.

It happened in the kitchen, after several hours of trick or treating, and a long, non productive day in a sales job. It had been one of those days when the mail brought only bills, and catalogs full of products that I cannot afford to buy. There is a reason I don’t go window shopping; it makes me sad. Now, during the start of this holiday season, that begins earlier and earlier each year, the window shopping comes to me.

I felt really silly, and embarrassed, and those around me had no idea how to comfort me. Outwardly, I was crying over a poorly made pizza that took 2.5 hours to be ready at the local pizzeria. Inwardly, it was the backed up tear ducts of a non productive week in a job that requires me to produce. My feet hurt; I was tired, and I wanted my pizza. I wanted just something to be easy.

My oldest son went to retrieve the phone, and closely looked at the damage. His bugged out eyes said it all when I threw the costly device. It was so unlike me to be so irresponsible. He picked it up, and marveled at the lack of damage. It has become tradition for me to scream at him for the cracks that appear in his phone, and artistically spread down the glass, just in time for the new phone to be released on or around his birthday. The lack of respect for the many dollars that the phone cost, eats away at me, as does the expectation that daddy will buy him the latest and the greatest as a replacement.

As has also become custom, my middle one looked at me, and knew something was up. He did not ask, but offered his customary shoulder for a place to put my head. I have come to love that about him more than he can possibly imagine. Never a question. Never an explanation necessary. He just seems to know that I need a place to put my head.

I apologized to the GF of son #1. She knows that such a display is not like me and she did not know how to respond. As the boys took it upon themselves to prepare the table for dinner, I took her to the couch and used it as an opportunity to talk about my behavior. We talked about a lesson that I had learned long ago. Avoid Reactive Behavior. Since she had just finished sharing a story about how bad management was at her job, and how she told them her feelings, I thought it was a good time to share the wisdom of my years, and use my embarrassing episode to do so.

We ate in almost silence, until my daughter, oblivious to it all, decided it was time to sort through the Halloween candy.

Cost of costume : $50

Cost of Candy: $ 25

Cost of Pizza: $18.00

Cost of replacement phone, thankfully not necessary: $0

Cost of a lesson learned : Priceless

Value of the family dinner: More than is currently in my bank account.