My home swarms with electrical cords. There are chargers for my wife’s iPhone, Apple watch, and Air buds. We have several more iPhone cords, which were left to spawn unsupervised in a kitchen drawer.
My iPhone is much older than hers and no longer works with any USB cable. At the store, they tried to sell me a new model, but I bought a wireless charger instead. Of course, this round charging dock has its own cord that plugs into the wall.
There are also three chargers for three tablets, one for each of our children. We keep different chargers for their old tablets in that kitchen-drawer breeding ground along with other unidentified cables and wires. (Is that for a Fitbit? When was the last time I wore one of those?)
There are still more chargers for the kids’ hoverboards; they don’t play on screens all day. I haven’t needed a Fitbit because I get plenty of steps chasing them around, occasionally tripped by some cord snaking from the wall just waiting to bite me.
There are more cords for the living room TV and the playroom TV, which also has the Nintendo hooked up to it. More cords. Our bedroom has the Wi-Fi modem and router. Throughout the house are many lamps. My wife prefers them to the overhead lights. More and more cords.
We have to pay for all this stuff, so there are also chargers for our work laptops. Also, a printer that has not worked properly since our youngest stuffed Cheerios down the paper dispenser. No one told me to baby-proof the printer.
When our firstborn came along, I was diligent about safely plugging any unused electrical sockets. Now we are long past the need to baby-proof our house, and there is no empty outlet to stick a fork into. I was concerned the puppy would chew on cords, but she has a taste for stuffed animals instead. (This helps to thin out the herd.)
Unlike stuffed animals, I am resigned to the fact that cords are here to stay, more likely to multiply. The oldest is already asking for his own phone, but my wife and I have sworn we will wait until high school. He howls in protest! According to him, “everyone else” in the fourth grade has an iPhone. This is hyperbole, but he is persistent. And loud! Pray we can stay strong.
Though a tripping hazard, all of these electrical cords do offer a bit of spiritual wisdom: almost everything will work better if you unplug it to rest — including you, me and the fourth-grader.
Andrew Taylor-Troutman has a new book coming out about playful and poignant moments in family life titled “Little Big Moments.” He lives in Chapel Hill and occasionally stumbles upon the wondrous while in search of his next cup of coffee.
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