For years I’ve been harboring a piano.
It’s the one i grew up playing, along with LaLa. She enjoyed it. I detested it. But I was the daughter who mostly stayed in one state, and the custody of the piano was always mine. I’ve longed for it to disappear. Go back to LaLa, where it would be appreciated. Mike longed for it to go there too, and offered his piano moving services. But then LaLa would move again, and it was never the right time.
Until now, when LaLa has finally settled down and intends to stay put for once, and we’re all very glad. LaLa hired professional piano movers and, after 12 years of piano harboring, I am officially piano-less today. Yesterday, really. But this is my first FULL piano-less day. I woke up and the piano was GONE. It was beautiful.
One piano mover rather enjoyed my colorful approach to painting everything in sight in the house and was particularly fascinated with an aqua and purple drybrushed empty barnwood picture frame. It’s extremely large. So was the piano mover who loved it. He wanted to know the story. There’s no story. I bought it for six dollars at a thrift store and slapped paint on it in a very messy way and hung it on the wall (over a messily painted turquoise table i adore) until I could figure out what to do with it. No talent. No investment. No story. Just an empty frame. But he decided to equate me to his daughter, who once used a projector to guide her in painting an exquisite Eiffel Tower that was used as a backdrop for something at their church for Valentine’s Day.
I did not tell him that I would never do such a thing, even if i had the talent, which I do not. i did not snort at the mention of Valentine’s Day. I just smiled and complimented his daughter’s ingenuity, and the smile was genuine because he was on his way OUT THE DOOR WITH THE PIANO, praise GOD.
After he left, I stared at the empty, piano-less space. I took pictures of the empty space. I decided something NEAR the empty space needed to be painted. Blue, I think. A medium, almost navy, but more-interesting-than-navy blue.
I’ll get to that this weekend.
I cleaned out my stuff from the piano bench. My stuff ended up being odds and ends from children’s art projects and a small, plastic pink teddy bear shaped box that held my collection of teeth. Yes. My teeth. From childhood.
I don’t know why I started saving them in that pink teddy bear box, or why I kept it in the piano bench, but that’s where it’s always been. Yesterday I walked into the kitchen and there were three horrified little boys crouch in a group. (I think they were my three boys. who knows. They are so difficult to recognize.) Two boys were openmouthed and silent and wide eyed.
Caden-8yr looked just as panicked as his brothers, but he was the one who could form words. He said, “WE SPILLED THE TEETH. We are very sorry. VERY.”
They were all crouched on the ceramic tile, not moving, surrounded by my tiny childhood teeth which were scattered everywhere. And they were clearly afraid. It was QUITE a scene. Sort of grotesque, as some of the little teeth had old blood visible.
I kept a straight face long enough to say, “Well put them back in the pink teddy bear already. That’s where they go.” And then I went in the bathroom, shut the door, and laughed at them. A lot.
I texted LaLa about this last night, and told her I just never knew when the right time was to throw them away. She diplomatically asked, “And do you know now?”
And… no. I do not.
They’ve been in the piano forever, and now the piano is gone. I could throw them out… but I really like how they immobilized three boys so effectively… I’d hate to throw away such power.
But they really are kind of gross.
Maybe I know someone with a piano bench I could put them in for safe keeping.