A Good Drill

The batteries were drained before he was. He knew. I remember him saying something to me about needing to get new ones. Of course that, along with everything else, took a back seat when he started feeling sick.

It really didn't matter much until lately, because I didn't need to use his drill. I have an old corded one, and it was getting me by okay. Tools were one of the things that we combined and kept duplicates when we got married. Because can you really have too many screwdrivers? Nope.

After the um-teenth time of dragging that old thing out and looking for the extension cord that I distinctly remember buying at the 99cent store when I was 19, I'd had it. I put the batteries for Tim's drill in my car and added replacing them to my to-do list.

Today, after weeks of hearing them roll around under my seat, the kids and I went to Home Depot to pick up a few things, including the replacement batteries. Their double cart didn't have seat belts, but that didn't stop us. Ayla sat in the seat of a regular cart and Anson manned the basket. Even though he had to be constantly reminded to stay seated. Even though she started crying. Even though he wanted to launch his sippy cup at every opportunity.

A helpful employee approached as I stood dumbfounded in the tool corral. (That is what they call it, right?) Obviously a dad, he started asking questions and fetching sippy cups. (3 kids, for the record... all boys. One still using a sippy cup.) What were the batteries for? (A drill. And another thing that is in the box with the drill.) Was it purchased at Home Depot? (I'm not sure.) How long ago was it purchased? (Um, I'm not sure....) Is it your drill? (No. Yes. Well, it was my husband's drill. He passed away. It is probably 10 years old or so. It's my drill now and the batteries won't hold a charge and I am ready to use it, so I need it to work.)

These are the conversations that get weird. There are things I don't bother telling people who don't need to know. When strangers in stores approach me about the kids and say "your husband must be so proud!" I just nod and assure them he is. When people ask what my husband does for work, I just tell them he is a detective. It only makes them feel awkward for trying to be friendly if I tell them the whole truth. So I feel okay telling half-truths.

Helpful Employee told me he was sorry and set off on his personal mission to make all things right in my power-tool world. As it turned out, they no longer carry replacement batteries for the drill. He looked online until he found them for us and even scampered off to find 2 toy hammers that he gave to A&A as a gift. (A little brand placement in early childhood is always good, right?)

That guy made my day better.

And I know that Tim would be happy that I found batteries for the drill rather than getting a new drill. As he would say, "It's a good drill".