Peacock Puke
The kids and I were just finishing up editing a video in my office when Kendra entered to say: "We...need your help."
The cat had gotten into the garage, and knocked over a prized memento. It had fallen onto the concrete floor, the glass had shattered.
Tears were shed — this item had belonged to Ben. It was handmade craft from a community fair last year that had been living on a shelf: a jar of multi-coloured sand with a golf tee glued on as a nose, and feathers for hair.
But the breakage pattern was unexpectedly gorgeous — "like a peacock puked!" exclaimed Kendra.
To protect little feet from shards of glass, I got to work right away, while Kendra and the kids spilled into the outdoors and onto the trampoline.
It was a chain reaction of tasks: To sweep the glass, I had to move the shoes. But in doing so, I had to sort and tidy them, and take out the entryway mat. Which helped us see the glass was in more places: it was scattered throughout the whole garage — around our bikes, under the wor…
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