M just stalked in from the courtyard where he’d taken the recycling.
“Mom,” he informed me, “Dad threw out the broken vacuum, why didn’t he just buy a new fan blade?”
Last night I went to prayer meeting with B, leaving DH to put M and K to bed. For bedtime entertainment, DH let them help him dissect the broken vacuum. That plastic piece I found inside had flown off the fan. M wanted to know how it worked, I wish I was there, it sounds so cool (of course, prayer meeting is good too, only this wasn’t prayer meeting, I forgot it was a business meeting to go over the proposed changes to the church constitution. That’s good too. Just not as fun.)
Any way, M missed the part where DH looked up replacement part prices online, a new fanblade is $5, but the motor was stressed too, and a new motor is $90, I paid $40 for the vacuum, refurbished.
When I explained to M the prices, I saw his brow wrinkled in the “What value are those number words again?” I took my drippy hands out of the dishwater to show him 4 and 9.
“What did the whole vacuum cost new?”
“I don’t know, I bought it second hand, after someone fixed it.”
“Mom, prices are weird.”
Out of the mouths of 7 year olds.