Cry Baby

Gasp!  The glass face of the watch had shattered.  I started sobbing. My poor watch.  The most expensive and prized possession that I owned had cracks all over the face.  I couldn’t help my cries.  They were instantaneous as soon as I saw the damage.  

I ran to my cell phone to call my mom (who had purchased the watch for me after I graduated from business school).  No answer.  I desperately called my favorite aunt who also owns a Rolex. No answer.  I tried my dad, too, but he didn’t answer either.  Tears were still gliding down my face.

The other day I had been laughing as the kids in Dominic’s gym class cried at the most minor things.  One little boy had to have the stuffed octopus.  When another girl swooped in and got it instead, he started howling and burst into tears.  He waddled over to his dad, pointing at the girl who had the octopus.  Or two kids who were fighting over a toy grand piano.  One was pulling on one end.  The other was yanking from the other.  Then the crying started when they realized they were deadlocked and the other wouldn’t budge.  I sat back, cracking up at all the crying.  I laughed, “This is comedy hour.  Pure comedy hour.”  

Now, here I was, one day later in my own bathroom.  I was bawling like a baby, but instead I wasn’t crying over a stuffed animal or a musical toy, I had just broken my $3,000 Rolex watch! My mom was no help.  She reprimanded me for keeping my watch in the bathroom. “That’s glass hitting glass.  You need to be more careful next time where you put your things.”

“It’s not like I meant to break it!  It was an accident.”

My aunt was much more soothing.  “Cat-Cat, it’s not the end of the world.  It’s just a watch.  You go price it out.  I think maybe $300-400.  I don’t think it will be more than $500 to fix.  Make sure you go to the authorized Rolex servicer in Union Square.  It’s just a broken face.  If it’s more than that, you give it to me.  I have some connections in Switzerland. We’ll send it there to get it fixed, ok? Don’t worry.”