Last week I needed to use my flashlight and of course the batteries were dead. Of course. Maybe you store your batteries in the fridge, some people do. I store my batteries in the flashlight until they die a dark and lonely death with no one beside them to urge them to “Go to the light! Go to the light!” That way I can always find a dead battery if I need one.
Aside: I don’t think I’ve ever a) been able to locate my flashlight when I really needed it and b) consequently found it “not-dead”. The flashlight is like the armadillo – for the most part, useless, and you never come across one that’s not deader than a doornail.
Sean asked me what I was doing as he watched me working to replace the batteries.
“Well, the batteries ran out,” I said, “So I’m putting in some new ones.”
His eyes grew wide with concern. “They ran out?” he asked sounding slightly alarmed as he peered into the empty cannister.
“Where did they go?”
I stopped to laugh at the mental image of a pair of C-cell batteries with skinny legs running away to freedom, hand in hand.
That boy, he makes me stop what I’m doing and laugh at least once a day — and that recharges my batteries.