A lovely black wooden base, the picturesque Norman Rockwell scene animated so delicately within the pristine glass. Not an air bubble in sight. If innocence were definable in a globular sense, I’d imagine this would be the poster child.
That is, until its true colors displayed like 4th of July fireworks in the wee hours of October 7th.
The aforementioned snow globe waited until the house was quiet and its tenants asleep before making its unsolicited attack. Deeply angered from its two-month stay in storage, I underestimated its potential danger as I retrieved the globe from its box and set it on the top shelf of my new bookcase.
Bending down to stuff my large collection of handbags on the bottom shelf, I began organizing the contents of the fixture. In one (gentle) wobble, a framed picture on the top shelf slipped, the inertia of which launched the globe off the shelf and into my unsuspecting skull.
In a display of shattered glass, holiday glitter, sticky snow and some strange smelling liquid, I stood in shock, the pulsing pain on the back of my head the only sensation letting me know that the killer snow globe had not succeeded in its crazed mission.
The crash alerted my roommate, who stumbled into my bedroom in a wild dash.
“Are you okay?”
“Ummm… I don’t know,” I sniffled, my tears due partly to my throbbing concussion and partly to the blatant betrayal of the object I had loved so freely.
Picking glass from my hair and ignoring her own blood-induced nausea, my roommate tried to free me of any shrapnel left from the attack.
Twenty-four hours and two hairwashes later, I was still picking snow from my head. While snow in hair sounds wildly romantic, I have the sneaking suspicion that the sticky, synthetic variety doesn’t exactly count.
Goodbye, dear Snow Globe.
6 comments:
For some reason glass seems to have developed an affinity for you . . . the jury's still out but I'm pretty sure it falls into the category of "fatal attraction"
I sometimes wonder if my possessions carry similar ill will towards me, particularly my snowboard, which seems to have a habit of launching me into the air at the most inopportune times.
Have you ever seen the movie Unfaithful? I don't want to give away any spoilers, but it does feature a snow globe in a way you might now find somewhat eerie.
In times like these, as we try to make sense of a senseless world, it's easy to ignore the forgotten victims. What could drive a snowglobe to an act of violent self-destrution? What can be done to save others from such acts of martydom? I hope that as we move on, we can gain an understanding of the deeper issues at play here. I think we'll all hug our snowglobes a little tighter tonight.
I am really sorry for your unfortunate snow globe incident . . . although I do have to admit I enjoyed a few laughs over it. I hope your head has stopped throbbing!
Kristen...my dear, I am so sorry! Next time please go to the E.R. instead of to sleep if a concussion is in question. Why do I have to have common sense for both of us? I have to admit that Unfaithful was the first thing I thought of too, Justin!
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