I don't own many super nice things. It's not that I don't like nice stuff, it's just that I don't agree with nice stuff. Anytime I buy pants costing more than $30, they get ruined somehow. Let's just say I am in hourly contact with a variety of markers including, but not limited to, Vis-a-vis, permanent and dry erase. But, the hand-me-down Target pants never get stained or shrunk or bleached.
Two of the nicest things I've ever owned were my digital cameras. Sadly, the plural and the past tense are not mistakes. I have lost two digital cameras. Two, very nice, digital cameras.
Camera #1- Lost at Ikea
I thought it would be a great idea to take pictures of bathroom vanities on a shopping trip with several stops. I put the camera down on a table to look at a brochure. Never picked it back up. I called Ikea weekly for months hoping someone would turn it in. Then, Ed bought me....
Camera #2- Lost at Sullivan's
This is what I get for engaging in corporate espionage. A friend I was visiting in Wisconsin needed a brand of sausage for her company's taste test. Sullivan's was supposed to carry it. How did I lose the camera, you ask? On our way in to the store, Alex had a bloody nose so I put my purse in a cart and unloaded the purse onto the seat of the cart to get a tissue at the bottom. Obviously, I never loaded my camera back into my bag. What sucks even more was that someone turned the camera into Sullivan's and Sullivan's put up a found sign. Then, a blond woman claimed my camera. We know this because the people at Sullivan's know Ed and there were pictures of him golfing in the flood on the camera. When he went to the store, they told him his blond wife claimed the camera. I would be pissed at Sullivan's for their stupidity, but that doesn't make a hell of a lot of sense since this was the SECOND camera I left in a store.
The only, and I mean only, good thing to come of this debacle is how Ed reacted after we found out about the second camera. I was on the phone with him crying hysterically saying what an idiot I was. I couldn't remember the last time I felt that bad about myself. Ed didn't lecture me, make fun of me or get angry. He spoke in the kindest voice anyone could ever hear. He told me to just come home. And that I did.