But it gets me where I need to go. ;)
Bill “surprised” me with this the other day.
And no, not for Mother’s Day.
Our other broom was wearing out anyway, and it took a real hit not long ago when Julia was merrily scattering compost all over the driveway and back stairs one evening and all that had to be cleaned up BEFORE DADDY GETS HOME.
So I’d been mentioning I needed a new broom.
Now, there’s actually a story with the other broom…(of course there is, right?). I’d bought a really nice broom years and years ago. It was thickly bristled and looked…well, the way a broom should look. Don’t ask – I don’t even know how to explain. But you know how you just see something and it’s right? That was that broom.
Well, this was way back during one of the first few years Bill was teaching chorus, and at that point he was still directing a musical every spring, because that’s what had always been done. He doesn’t do it any more. Not a fan of musical theatre. This is a topic we’ve actually had to ban from discussion, because we feel SO STRONGLY and SO COMPLETELY OPPOSITELY about said topic. It gets ugly.
But anyway, whatever the show was, a character in it needed a broom. And I sweetly and generously said “sure, you can use this one” and apparently the girl in the show who did the sweeping ALSO brought in a broom for the show, and SOMEHOW the broom Bill brought home when the performances were over WAS NOT THE SAME BROOM HE TOOK FROM OUR HOME.
This was still back in my really-tolerant-and-forgiving days. Well, sort of. I did point out that it wasn’t my broom. And he gave me a sort of I’m-sorry-but-it’s-just-a-broom-does-it-really-matter? kind of look, and I – oh, how nice I once was – said not to worry about it. To his credit, he intended to switch them, but the girl who’d used the broom – CLEARLY TAKING ADVANTAGE OF THIS UNEXPECTED WINDFALL – took home MY broom and Bill felt (I assume) ridiculous asking for it back, so he didn’t, and so we’ve had this sub-standard broom for years now.
Sure, it sweeps okay. But still. It just wasn’t the same.
So last weekend, Bill was at Lowe’s or a hardware store or something, and he got me a new broom.
And that’s the story of the brooms.
Feel free to read it to your children at bedtime. I’m sure they’ll drift off to sleep with puzzled little expressions on their faces, but hey, as long as they drift off to sleep, what’s it matter?