The story of a crystal frame

Once upon a time – just about five weeks shy of eight years ago, actually – the Webmaster and I spent our honeymoon in Disneyland. I have always loved this place, and it didn’t take much convincing on my part to the Webmaster to make it our honeymoon destination.

We decided to buy ourselves a nice and meaningful gift that we could always remember our honeymoon by. So, at Cristal d’Orleans in New Orleans Square, we picked out a crystal frame that had a bridal Mickey and Minnie etched on it. Then we had our names and the date of our wedding etched on it as well. We hand-carried it home. I was so afraid that it had broken in 2001, when the Nisqually earthquake hit, but it turned out to be a glass champange flute, not the frame.

Fast forward to 2006. Tad was a baby – not even a year old – and the Webmaster was changing his diaper in the living room while playing with Ane. I was trying to catch a nap. It was a Saturday afternoon.

I heard the unmistakable sound of something shattering in the living room, and I went running. The crystal frame, which had been on our mantle, was now in pieces all over the hearth and carpet. After cleaning up the mess and consoling a scared Ane, I found out what had happened. The Webmaster and Ane had been playing with a large beach ball while he was changing Tad. She had tossed it to him, and he had deflected it, afraid that it would hit Tad. But it bounced off his arm and knocked the frame off the mantle.

The Webmaster was mortified and apologetic, but there was nothing that could be done. The frame was beyond repair. I was sad, but I tried not to get too upset over it. “The next time we go to Disneyland, you’re buying me a new frame,” I informed him.

Fast forward again to last Friday. After checking Cristal d’Orleans and not finding the right frame (they had Cinderella and her Prince, but not Mickey and Minnie), we visited Crystal Arts on Main Street. And there it was!

The Webmaster promptly stepped forward and bought it, and then placed the etching order. He told the saleslady – excuse me, cast member – the whole sad saga of our first crystal frame. The engraver was coming in later that day, so the Webmaster arranged to pick it up in the afternoon.

When he arrived to pick it up, the lady handed the box to him and said, “Now, please don’t break this one.”

I don’t think I’m going to put it up again until I have a safer place to put it. Which probably means that I’ll put it up when we move and I have room enough for a china hutch. Because even if the Webmaster is careful to not play ball in the house, the kids are not. And they have balls, lightsabers, stuffed animals… a whole variety of projectiles.

So I’m going to be careful. After all, we can’t keep coming back to buy more crystal frames.

2 Responses to “The story of a crystal frame”

  1. Ressis
    July 6th, 2008 11:36

    While reading this I thought “Where was I when this happened?” because I don’t remember hearing about it. Then I remembered, “Oh yeah, I was in Texas.”

  2. MamáChanga
    July 8th, 2008 22:58

    Glad you found a replacement.