A mother-daughter snafu brought the early and untimely demise of my ipod this morning.
My beloved ipod, biggest Mother’s Day present ever. I expressed a wish to easily play music so my daughters and I could dance together, and they showed up with an ipod.
Which I left it in their room after a nap-time story listening session.
She knows she’s not supposed to touch it, but apparently the temptation was too great for a very small girl. So she played with it in bed. Under the covers.
Which I washed this morning.
(How can you not see a silver ipod when stripping watermelon-like striped sheets?)
Devo found it in the washer. And it’s dead.
Is it morally right to mourn for an inanimate piece of metal? I feel misgivings.
Good bye, ipod. RIP. <sniff>