Superbowl Sunday post reminded me of my own 'broken TV story.' It didn't involve a TV or rough housing, but I did cause major heartburn to my parents and set the family budget back hundreds of dollars.
We were in the process of moving. Mom asked for my help to get the kitchen ready for the sale of our house. I noticed that the kitchen clock had built up years of grim from its perch above the stove. In hindsight, it might have made sense to try something a little tamer...like 409 or maybe Windex to cut through the layers of grease. But I was sixteen. I went for the heavy arsenal. I didn't even take time to remove the clock from the wall. I simply slathered it with a thick layer of oven cleaner and went off to do whatever it is that teenage kids do.
Years later, and I can still vividly remember how well the oven cleaner worked that day. Stripped my mom's kitchen clock right down to the metal. It might not have been so bad if that's where it ended. But no, I wasn't about to lend any of my own elbow grease; I applied so much oven cleaner that it dripped down the wall....down the kitchen cabinet....all over the stove top. Oh yes, and it made sure to puddle all over my mother's new kitchen linoleum. Everything was ruined!
It's taken nearly thirty years and three kids to figure out the full extent of my parents frustration with me that day. I'm sure they gulped air (nearing hyperventilation) and counted to ten (maybe 100) before telling me that it would be ok (someday). But Melissa is so right; "expensive broken electronics are definitely stories that linger in family legend."
Dav...I mean child who shall remain nameless :-), you've got NOTHING on me!