Parenting Traumas

So the kid broke the screen of her iPod, again.

That was one trauma.  Because I don't know if you know how much those are to fix, but I will just tell you, bunches.

(Why does she have an iPod, when we are poor as dirt?  We bought it with the last of the educational money her grandfather left her, to use for her homeschooling.  In theory, she uses it to study.  And in fact, she does, sometimes, use it for that purpose, reading lots of her English and history on it.  But also it's a platform for her art programs and her music.)

No sooner did I finally get the money together to fix the iPod screen when --

Wails erupt.

For the first time in two years the kid has unwisely forgotten a glass of water on her desk, and the eeeevil cat had, in the night, knocked it over onto the keyboard of her computer.

She smites her head, she flings ashes.  She abases herself.

"Oh, quit," I say.  "One day you'll have a forebrain, won't that be nice?  Then you won't do stupid shit like this ever again."

She blinks at me through her tears woefully.  "Really?"

I think this over, and laugh.  "Well..." I say.  "No.  Humans do stupid shit all the time.  Because we're human.  But really, on a scale of one to really stupid, how stupid do you think wrecking a keyboard is?"

She sniffles.  "Two?"

"Like point five," I assure her.  "Be glad this happened in the summer when I happen to have a little money."