Pessimistic Optimism

Life as I see it… sort of.

Gone, But Not Forgotten

We’ve suffered a loss in our family today.  I know that it’s part of life, but it kills me to see my kids go through this whole process.  Luckily my son hasn’t noticed yet and if we’re fortunate he never will.  My daughter has noticed, in fact, she’s the one that brought it to my attention.  I’m very proud of her because she didn’t shed any tears.  Her words were matter of fact and she moved on to another subject.

“It’s gone forever.  I’m hungry, Daddy.”

Most adults don’t let go this easy.

It all happened at the supermarket.  The kids each brought in two toys to play with in the car cart.  He had two cars, of course, and she had a rubber ducky and a magnifying glass.  We did our usual rounds: witty banter at the deli counter; squeezing sessions in the fruit section; and naming the lobsters in the tank.  My favorites were Dinner and Delicious, my daughter liked Tasty the best, and my son couldn’t care less what their names were, he just wanted to pet them.

The realization of our loss hit my daughter when I stopped in the coffee aisle to decide if my wife would like Mocha Cafe Coconut, Brazilian Tangerine Morning Sunshine or French Vanilla.  We went with the French Vanilla.  This is when my daughter asked me to find the magnifying glass.

I checked out the car section of the cart where the kiddies parked their cabooses and was unsuccessful in finding the missing object.  I then proceeded to remove the children from the cart to search better on my hands and knees in the middle of the aisle.  Fortunately for the other shoppers I had worn a longer coat so they were spared the old plumber’s crack that I could feel going on by the breeze finding it’s way into my jeans.  It was nowhere to be found.  This might sound familiar to some of you because I wrote about a similar situation a while ago, which I called, Has Anyone Seen my Hippo?.

I informed my daughter that we’d retrace our steps and see if we can find it and she thought that was an excellent idea.  She might’ve used the word good.  We had no luck during the backtracking or at the information desk.  The kid tried to be helpful but he couldn’t make my little girl whole again.  This is when I decided to break it to her that it was probably gone for good.

“I’m sorry chicken, the magnifying glass is gone,” I said.  She became a chicken while we shopped when she no longer wanted to be a big blue bird.

“It’s gone forever.  I’m hungry, Daddy.”

It was over like that.  There were no signs of sadness or anxiety while she ate her jelly and Jif peanut butter sandwich.  Hopefully she won’t have flashbacks or a relapse from keeping her sorrow so deep inside.


February 20, 2007 - Posted by | family, Humor, kids, life, parenthood, parenting


  1. nice job, you had me going there, I thought for sure that your hairier son had passed on and I was going to have some resentment for being informed this way, but the magnifying glass…that’s SO AWFUL! I’m so sorry for you, is there anything I can do?

    Comment by Aunt Weather | February 21, 2007 | Reply

  2. A.W,
    Thanks for your concern, I think it hit me the hardest, but I’m coping. How am I going to burn ants this summer?

    Comment by linusmann | February 21, 2007 | Reply

  3. I was more concerned about you feeding the kid the peanut butter sandwich….

    Will you write about the Salmonella scare next?

    Comment by Jim | February 24, 2007 | Reply

  4. Jim,
    The kids ate Jif peanut butter (our new brand), so it was okay. I think people might want to buy stock in them because many people might stick with them instead of Peter Pan.

    Comment by linusmann | February 26, 2007 | Reply

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