Tania Kettle

Have I ever told you the story of the worst $5 I ever spent?

Now the price is important here, because everyone's made an expensive bad decision.  That's a given.  Dresses that we thought would look amazing and then got home and went, WTF was I thinking?  or shoes that we ended up wearing once because they are so damn uncomfortable, you can't wear them for more than 15 minutes.  

These are mistakes we have all made.  And paid for.

But that I paid $5 is kind of like rubbing salt in the proverbial wound.  Adding insult to injury, if you will, as if being stupid wasn't enough, I had to go bargain to do it.

So let me tell you how this goes:

I love second hand shopping.  I love funky jackets and things which are a little bit out of left field.  I hate with a passion, going out and seeing other people in the same thing that I'm wearing.  It freaks me out.  

Seriously. Freaks. Me. Out.

Anyhou, moving right along...

it was the week before Christmas, a fair few years ago now, and I was just doing a little hunt round in a Second Hand Shop, seeing if there was anything of interest for me.  There wasn't for me, however, out of the corner of my eye I spied this game.  

In a box, looked new, $5.

It was a Chess game.

Oooooohhhhhh....the young one loves Chess.

There was a catch. 

It was a shot glass Chess set.

Ooooohhhhh....even cooler.

Did I mention it was only $5?

I nabbed it before anyone else saw this great buy, paid for it and left. Feeling extremely proud of myself.

Gave it to the young one at Christmas and he was stoked.  I patted myself on the back for being a super fantastic present buyer, and uber cool Mum.

So in the days between Christmas and New Year, the young one had a friend staying that we both knew.  I had done a really great dinner and then afterwards the young one goes to his mate, Hey Richard, do you feel like a game of Chess?

And out comes this Chess set.  Then the liquor cabinet gets opened.  

First game is fine, second game starts happening, and since I'm not playing I go off to bed and leave them to it.  This, my friend, is where things start getting a bit dodge.  They get most of the way through a third.

3am in the morning I hear a bump.  Then bump...bump...bump...bump... 

What the hell?

I get up to see my son ricocheting off the walls.  He had managed to get out of bed, down the hall way, turn to where the main bathroom was, missed the main bathroom, kept on bouncing off the walls down the hall, and almost made the second toilet...before he power chucked.

And chucked.  And chucked.  And chucked.

The floor was covered, the walls were covered and in some parts, the ceiling had vomit hanging from it.

I took one look, walked back in my room, shut the door and went back to sleep.

Needless to say, it was not fun in our house the next morning.  I refused to clean it up, the young one was sick as a dog, his mate was left to not just clean it up, but also organise carpet cleaners to come round immediately and clean it up (obviously cash and premium rates), and the smell stayed in our house for weeks.  

Everytime I thought I had got any stray bits, I would find another place where the vomit had found a home.

I immediately and forever more, banned the game, never ever to set it's ugly size 15 boot in our home again.  I also, mistakenly as it works out, thought the young one binned it.

Works out the young one took it back to University with him and it still, on the odd cold Winter's, or lazy Summer night, reappears. 

The gift that just keeps on giving.

You know, people without kids might have more money and less wrinkles...

But you and I have better stories.

Wishing you much love and abundance and a truly courageous heart.

T and Spirit

xx