I had one possession left that they had not broken. My pearl necklace. Today they broke it. I screamed the agony of a thousand deaths, and Tim literally thought one of us had been shot or stabbed. We laugh now, but when that necklace went flying off my neck, a piece of me died. I will never be the same.
The irony is that if anyone would fix it for me, it will be my mother -- once upon a time, I probably broken all her valuables.
The other irony -- or maybe foreshadow -- is that the necklace broke while I was trying to take Quinn to her room because she was screaming at Kenna for "breaking" her blanket fort. (But really no matter what you do, blanket are going to slip off a shiny piano.) Then I proceeded to scream at Quinn. Oh dear. The lessons we learn.
Tim is still shaking from my scream o death. Oops.
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