The Day The DVDV Died

A beloved member of our family died a very quiet death recently. It was a very sad day when we realised that, hidden behind the tubs and baskets of toys that flank the television (which keep the Mouse from scaling the lofty heights of the telly cabinet to chat to her mates on the screen), our dear, old DVD player had succumbed to old age.

Now, what you must understand is that this was no ordinary DVD player.

Once upon a time, around about our fourth date, Christian swung past my classroom and asked if I wanted to catch a DVD at his place that night. When I reminded him that he did not in fact own a DVD player (thus rendering his proposed activity redundant), he replied casually, "Ok, then, let's go and buy one." Such cavalier ways!! I will readily admit I was already smitten by this point - the whole shopping "together" for a piece of electronic equipment only made me worse. (Yes, I was impressed easily. I understand this, and take full responsibility for my actions. Now, may we continue?)

This humble DVD player went on to become one of the most important appliances in our home. Not only did it allow Christian and I to indulge in our love of the "Most Haunted" series when it was on hiatus, but it also gave me an excuse to buy the box set of "Sex and the City". Which, I need not tell you, was necessary for my survival. Ahem.

And after Jack reached a certain age, the inside of the DVD player was tattooed with the tunes of the Wiggles and Thomas the Tank Engine...and then Phoebalina etched the sounds (I say 'sounds' rather than 'tunes' for obvious reasons) with Hi-5 and the Tibby Tubbies...and more recently, our hard-working little grey machine played the same Christmas DVDs over, and over, and over again.

It would be fair to say that after nearly five years of playing predominantly children's "entertainment" (read: a mother's sanity with three under four), our DVD player bit the dust out of sheer delirium. However, given that it was a $120 DVD player that lasted for eight years, I reckon it probably just died of old age (and Wiggles-induced stupor).

So.

After quite a number of weeks without a DVDV player (thus dubbed by the Ballerina), I decided we needed one. Pronto. Apparently our set top box (and emergency DVD player) was in the collection of gear stored at Argie's place, and it would be a doddle to go and retrieve it. (And much cheaper, too.) So after a refreshing Easter Saturday walk this morning, we trapped  put the kids in the car and drove down to Argie's.

The whole way there, Phoebalicious stressed about being late for the Easter Bunny. "We need to go home! Because the Easter Bunny might come while we are out, and then he won't leave me a pink egg!! And he comes to good children. And he brings them pink eggs! And we are not at home! We need to go home Mummy!! Why are you still driving this way?" She was really convinced that the Easter Bunny was going to front up to our place in broad daylight, sniff around and see the children were absent, and hop away without leaving the goods.

Once we had convinced Phoebe that the Easter Bunny would come after dark when she was asleep, just like Santa, she was still desperate to get home and go to bed...  The stuff at Argie's yielded lots of forgotten treasures, but no set top box could be found in any of the boxes. So we (did what I had suggested initially but had been nixed by the Treasurer) zipped into Dick Smiths, purchased a new, uber-cheap but working DVD player, and got home in time for the Bunny's arrival.

So, the team are in bed, having lovingly laid a bunch of dutch carrots at the front door. They were all lying in their beds when I last checked, eyelids trembling with the effort of appearing asleep. And now all I need to do, is work out how to lay a trail of mini eggs leading to the main attraction (ie. a PINK egg for the Ballerina, a BIG egg for Jack, and a baby egg for the Mouse - can you tell I've been given whispered instructions and desires??) without Archie eating the Bunny's goodies. Let me see. Easter eggs, a small house, and a border collie pup.....it's not going to end well, is it?