irony, or something

Yesterday afternoon, my neighbor Jack and I spent a couple hours enjoying the sun and drinking beer on the deck at a local brewpub. In the course of our conversation, we got into the question of the sorts of values parents teach their children. More specifically, I explained that I was trying to teach Banana the value of taking care of things—clothes and other possessions. Knowing when to put a smock on over a nice dress or use grubby clothes. Knowing when to put a bicycle away so it doesn't get rained upon. Caring for our house and the things in it. It is a habit I have worked to be better at in my thirties than I was in my twenties.

But then this happens: I left my pool cue at the bar where I played pool last evening. Completely forgot the case was on the back of my chair. When I got home and realized what had happened, I decided get the number and call the bar to have a friend put it in the office. Then I got distracted and forgot to call. I remembered again this morning and called. As you might expect, the guy who was opening couldn't find the case. The best I can hope at this point is that one of my friends saw it and put it in a safe place.

The cue? It's a custom-made cue that I bought the year before Banana was born. There isn't another like it in the world. And I left it without thinking.

I am an idiot.