Thursday, November 09, 2006
It's A Nice Picture, But....
Take a good look at these grasshopppers. Because of these grasshoppers, I endured over two months of hell.
Let me explain.
I'm a city gal. I get excited by nature. So, when I spied these baby grasshoppers on my hydrangea, I wanted to take a picture. Sue me.
Anyhoo, after the photoshoot was complete, I set our fairly expensive digital camera on top of the dryer. I know, not exactly the best place for a camera, but I knew where it was.
Then, the next day I put it in the car because we were going somewhere, and if there is even a slight chance that good pictures can be taken, the camera goes along. I placed it into the open center storage space that our Accord has under the radio. It is actually quite a cavernous opening, and things ranging from breath mints to packaged snacks to tissue lurk in its dark recesses.
The camera was not used, and if I remember correctly, we didn't even get out of the car. Camera stayed put. The day after that, Hubba-hubba took Mr. Personality to the park or library or some such thing, and I distinctly remember thinking as they drove away, oh shoot, the camera is still in there.
Less than a week later, I need the camera again. I ask Hubba-hubba if he put it somewhere, because I couldn't find it in the car. He answered that he had never even seen the camera. I had looked everywhere. Under seats, in every possible console, in the trunk, the backpack. Everywhere. No camera.
I rip the house apart, all the while knowing in my heart of hearts that I had put it in the car last. No camera. I felt like complete crap. I had lost our camera. It was expensive, it had been a gift. We couldn't really afford to buy another one with similar features. Not to mention losing the pictures that were on it that I had failed to upload onto the computer.
My mom, by sheer coincidence, had just gotten a new camera herself, and so I swallowed my pride and asked her if I could use hers. You know, just until I found ours because it had to be somewhere. Because I am not the type of person who loses four hundred-plus dollar cameras. I just don't.
Boy, did my mom put me through the ringer. She chastised me for being irresponsible, an image she cannot shake from my early teenage years when I would lose jewelry. I got an earful for about fifteen minutes, and finally I could stand it no longer. I reminded her that there were two people in the camera equation, and Hubba-hubba might have had something to do with it. She would have none of it, and I had to resort to practically begging.
Reluctantly, she "lent" me the camera. Because everybody needs two cameras. And she just is not generous in that way. She is many good things, but generous and expansive do not come to mind.
So for two whole months, I felt like absolute crap. I felt like an irresponsible teenager. Everybody, including Hubba-hubba, made sympathetic noises about the camera loss, but I knew they thought I had just plain lost it. I could see their eyes rolling into the back of their heads as I insisted it had been in the car. I grilled Hubba-hubba about the camera being in the car, but he professed complete ignorance. He had never even seen it, much less touched it.
Until, that is, last week.
Last week, what should turn up but the missing item. In the car. You know those pockets that are built into the back of the passenger and driver seats? Wedged deep down in there.
Suddenly, Hubba-hubba's amnesia was cured. Oooooooh, that camera. Riiiiight.
Triumphant, I called my mother to tell her the good news. That I wasn't irresponsible. That it was indeed the other half of the equation that had messed up.
Upon hearing where it was found and who had placed it there, she had not a word to say.
Hmmphf. I have suspected all along she liked him better, but now I've got proof.