So I have this black digital alarm clock. Sort of.
It used to be an alarm clock back when my husband brought it home as a prize from some raffle they had at his job – you’d think he’d just won the lottery. I wanted the spa day complete with hot stone massage, but the POS who sat in the cubicle across from him won it instead. The same creep who had the audacity to ask if I was pregnant, all because My Husband The Idiot drove to work with the diaper bag still in his backseat, while my red leather Gucci pocket book hitched a ride inside.
I had PMS and dead bodies have less bloating than I do on the rag. He was trapped “in meetings all day” and I was out of tampons. And chocolate. And wine.
I had to haul all four kids with me while wearing my favorite baggy gray yoga pants that have the grape jelly stain on the upper left thigh because my jeans wouldn’t zip up over my distended belly, and my ancient USC Delta Gamma T-shirt – the only shirt in my wardrobe that had been spit-up upon by my three month old colicky boy less than five times.
I was out of laundry detergent too.
So maybe I looked like a fat cow that day. Still, you don’t ever hint a woman looks like she’s pregnant unless she’s just told you she’s gone into labor.
Then he won my spa day while we received The Ambient Alarm Arouser.
No, it is NOT A SEX TOY – I thought that at first too when my husband told me what he’d won.
It claimed to have “ten settings of ambient sounds to gently arouse you from your sleep.” Instead, it had recordings of birds cawing – not chirping – but cawing, like the damn crows that roost here in spring and wake us up at 5:45 every morning. Then there was the storm setting with thunder, which might not have been so bad IF THERE WAS A VOLUME BUTTON TO CONTROL IT.
My husband insisted on using it to wake him up in the mornings – as proud of this alarm clock as Ralphie’s dad was of his leg lamp in A Christmas Story – even though half the time it woke up two of our children from another part of the house.
It is amazingly durable and punched a hole in my bedroom wall when I missed my husband’s head, after it woke up the baby whom I’d been up with all night. When he left for work, I handed it to my older three children and gave them my husband’s tools. The hammer only partially dented the top and there’s a hairline fracture in the display.
The clock part works, except for the last digital number, which is always an 8. The other numbers still display fine.
I don’t think I put it back together correctly because I still have screws leftover from when I finally opened the thing and repeatedly stabbed the speakers and any other part that threatened to make noise. I’ll include the screws too.
I’m selling it for $20, because it does make a great toy for kids to beat on, given the hard outer shell. If you have better aim than I do, it would also be a great hidden weapon to throw at a burglar – check out what it did to my wall:
I just need to sell the clock before my husband tries to get it repaired this weekend.
- Location: just north of downtown
This is a work of fiction.
The prompt is based on one from Absolute Write.
We want you to imagine you’ve just had a fight with a friend, a co-worker, husband, significant other, child – you get the picture. You’re mad. It’s time for revenge.
What would you sell?
Write a humorous listing for eBay or Craig’s List. Talk about the history of the items, why they must go.
Word limit is 600.
Disclaimer: No drywall was harmed for the posting of this blog.
Comments and feedback are greatly appreciated.