Fix you

I have been quite ruthless lately: cleaning out closets and drawers and throwing things out in preparation for our move back to the United States. We have too much stuff for our little townhouse. There is no attic or basement storage room in which to hide our clutter. I have locked my sentimental self in a cabinet and am instead doing my best to be practical. Have we used it recently? Will we need it in the future? I have culled my paperback books and wardrobe and even have my eye on Miss Bee's stuffed animal herd.

However, I came across a broken toy today that I couldn't bring myself to throw out, a small stuffed mouse. My father bought it for Bee while we were both visiting my sister in Munich. Bee was just five months old and it was my father's first trip to Germany. We spent one afternoon shopping and my father impulsively decided to buy Bee a present. He picked a small pink mouse with a music box inside. If you pulled her tail, it would play a German lullaby. This perfect little toy hung on Bee's crib until the mouse's tail was pulled one too many times and the music box broke.

I think that as Americans, we tend to view our possessions as disposable. We accumulate stuff--because it's the trend, or it's on sale, or it's two for one. We buy and buy and when our things break, we buy some more. Not so many years ago, if an appliance broke, you wouldn't throw it out--you would have it repaired. There once was a whole industry of scissor sharpeners and TV repairmen that has mostly disappeared. Nowadays, the repair is often more costly than buying a new item. However, some things cannot be replaced, including Bee's gift from my father. So this morning I decided to attempt resuscitate the mouse.

Channeling my father, who is uncannily able to fix just about anything, I took a sharp pair of scissors and carefully cut open the back and extracted the music box. The mechanism was inside a sealed plastic case, and after hacking at it with a steak knife for a while (it was the closest thing on hand) I decided to get serious and borrowed my husband's pocket knife. After I loosened the glue around the edges of the case and swore at it several times the box cracked open. Using the tip of the pocketknife, I removed the mounting screws. With a pair of needle nose pliers, I was then able to nudge the little gears back into motion.

Like magic, the box began to sing and the string (the mouse's tail) began to wind. After a few test plays, I put the whole thing back together. I just need to suture up the back of the mouse and she will be as good as new. I am reveling in my small victory over consumerism.