Where is that thing …

the TV remote, that is.

My niece Gracie came over for a visit today and the very first order of business for her was to turn on the TV.  She turned it on by the power button on the set (what a concept) and there was nothing but static.

She said “fix it Nini”.  And I stood there, dumbfounded, because I couldn’t fix it.

In order to fix it, I would need the remote and I haven’t seen that particular piece of equipment in weeks.

Or maybe months, I’m not certain.

She frowned at me as though I had popped her brand new balloon with a needle.

But what was I to do?

I don’t know where it is.  I have looked for it so I could watch “Lord of the Dance”, “The Fugitive” and “Wolf”.

I haven’t found it, but I have, most diligently, looked for it.

Mayhaps the elusive mouse that I have been trying to catch carried it off.

I have looked everywhere, even in places that I am certain, without a shred of doubt, that it could not possibly be because who really knows what goes on when I sleepwalk?

But I looked anyway just to satisfy my own curiosity.

It has simply disappeared.

I haven’t had the TV on in months and have had no need of the remote.  That doesn’t justify its disappearance.  It didn’t simply evaporate.

Or maybe it did.  What do I know?

So instead of the TV, I subjected her to my current obsession with John Cougar.  She didn’t seem to mind, not overmuch anyway, but every now and then, she would look at me and shake her head.

It is hard to swallow the disappointing looks from a five year old.

Sorry, Gracie. I’ll try to do better next time.

kisses blown from an angel

kisses blown from an angel

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