The Piano Bench
My nearly five year old was playing the brand new Baldwin piano, more out of curiousity than skill, as I went downstairs with a load of laundry. The piano had been in the house a week after I had saved for it for years. Suddenly I heard a loud thud followed by a cry as loud as a siren.
I raced upstairs and found the piano bench tipped over, the seat hanging haphazardly from the hinges and my son sobbing uncontrollably. The unheard of had happened. The piano, mom’s prized possession, was damaged. The piano bench had hit the coffee table on the way to the floor, so the lid and legs were chipped and scratched looking more like a piece that came from the junkyard than from the store. It was terrible. I wanted to cry. The bench was ruined. My son was scared, shocked, and so very sorry.
My husband tried to fix the bench, no luck. He took it back to the store to see if it could be repaired, but the damage was irreparable. So, we moved the bench out to the garage and pulled a chair up to the piano in its place. What an eye sore. There sat the beautiful new piano in the center of the living room with an old chair in front of it looking as out of place as a mom in a video game store.
A few months later, the holiday season was upon us and the piano bench incident was well in the past. The kids were pouring over the toys in the ads making their lists for Santa while I was decorating, shopping, wrapping, cooking, and packing for all the holiday events.
Finally Christmas was here. We awoke Christmas morning to the squeals of delight as the kids discovered their gifts under the tree. I started down the hallway and stopped in disbelief. I could not believe my eyes. There, under the tree, was a perfect piano bench.
I raced upstairs and found the piano bench tipped over, the seat hanging haphazardly from the hinges and my son sobbing uncontrollably. The unheard of had happened. The piano, mom’s prized possession, was damaged. The piano bench had hit the coffee table on the way to the floor, so the lid and legs were chipped and scratched looking more like a piece that came from the junkyard than from the store. It was terrible. I wanted to cry. The bench was ruined. My son was scared, shocked, and so very sorry.
My husband tried to fix the bench, no luck. He took it back to the store to see if it could be repaired, but the damage was irreparable. So, we moved the bench out to the garage and pulled a chair up to the piano in its place. What an eye sore. There sat the beautiful new piano in the center of the living room with an old chair in front of it looking as out of place as a mom in a video game store.
A few months later, the holiday season was upon us and the piano bench incident was well in the past. The kids were pouring over the toys in the ads making their lists for Santa while I was decorating, shopping, wrapping, cooking, and packing for all the holiday events.
Finally Christmas was here. We awoke Christmas morning to the squeals of delight as the kids discovered their gifts under the tree. I started down the hallway and stopped in disbelief. I could not believe my eyes. There, under the tree, was a perfect piano bench.
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