The Legend of the L Earpod

Gravestone Reads: What once was new is now even new-er.


Story: This tombstone marks the spot that a fallen warrior, my old left earpod, has been buried. It's staggering to know how quickly the line between life and death can be



It happened so fast. I was running down my usual route, when all of a sudden my L earpod fell out. I tried looking for it right afterwards, because the badass music that I was

playing suddenly gave out and I don't like being interrupted. My search quickly turned frantic when I couldn't find it after only a couple of minutes, thinking the worst. You

may think this shouldn't be a big deal. You might think I am being silly, overreacting like this. But these earpods are very dear to me. My husband got them for me on my

birthday, and I wanted to prove to him that I do not lose things. I was stressing about what I would say when I got home. Do I pretend that nothing is wrong? Do I tell him a

monster grabbed me and chomped my ears off? I mean, that would be pretty unbelievable, but at least then it wouldn't be my fault. But then I remembered, at last. The best

thing to do in all situations, even hard ones, is to tell the truth.


So I went home, at a gimped pace without my music and preparing myself for Alec's disapproval. I prepared dinner and pretended that everything was fine, then tried to

offloaded the bad news in between casual dinner conversation. To my surprise, Alec seemed very calm, and seemed to even smile at how emotional I was about the whole

thing. "You know they are on sale right now," he said.


"I don't want a new pair!" I raged at him. "I want my old ones! They are special to me! After I clean up dinner, I'm going back out there and I will find it."


"Good luck, mommy. I love you," said Orson.


"Thank you, child." And after a few trips back and forth on the sidelines of my route, there it was, opposite of where I thought it would be, and utterly and completely…

smashed. A car must have run it over. It was as 2-D as a fine molecular piece of technology could be, with its electronic guts spilling out of its white plastic seams. I picked it

up gently and carried it home holding it in both hands like a little bird. When I got home, Orson ran up to me and exclaimed, "Did you find it?!" I said, yes… He was so happy

for a moment, until I opened my hands and showed him the destroyed electronic.


"Cool," said Alec. "Can I see inside?"


"What?" I quickly closed my hand and held it away from him. "No, you can't... wait. You want to see inside?" I thought about this for a moment. My idea of it being a fallen

warrior had given it more life than it had any right to be. "Well… I mean, I guess!" and allowed Orson and Alec to ogle at the miniature digital grid.


After a close inspection, he said, "You know… that other earpod that Summer found earlier, it's also a left one, I think."


A few days ago, on Easter Sunday, we had an unorthodox egg hunt. Since we couldn't go anywhere special, and there was still snow on the ground, we all bundled up and hid

our eggs in the snowy mountain next to our house. It was the perfect place to hide Easter eggs – there were lots of ridges and dips in the snow from other kids digging and

carving into it. The eggs that we hid were very bright colors, generously provided by and delivered to our door by the kind members of our church. During these hard times of

uncertainty and alienation, it was difficult to provide the kids with such a simple tradition, because most of the time was spent trying to balance working from home and

tending to the kids in a chaotic household. But finding something that doesn't belong that is small and white (to match the snow)? Leave that up to the littlest one, Summer,

who came up to me with a face that suggested I was utterly clueless. "Mommy, an air-pod? In the snow?" She held it out to me, laughing, and I quickly patted myself down,

feeling for the zippers on my pockets. Fully zipped. Then what was this? I took it from her, said "Thank you, I better do a better job at keeping track of things," I said. But

when I unzipped my pocket and looked inside the case, both of my original earpods were already there.


I brought it home and showed it to Alec. "That's strange. Someone must be really missing this," he said, but for some reason neither of us posted it on our Neighborhood

Watch app. We kept it, thinking about how curious it was. Now, after only a few days later that we found this left earpod did the one I previously owned got crushed. My

genius computer-savvy husband managed to get the foreign node to pair with the original right earpod. The left earpod worked swimmingly. It looked just like it, acted just

like it, was just the same amount of filthy, but was somehow incredibly different!


And that is the story, of the Legend of the Missing Left Earpod. Please be sure to like and subscribe and… oh wait, what platform are we on again? Just, ya know. Give me some