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A power surge probably fried a $0.55 capacitor. I've repaird a few by opening them up and looking for such failure. If you know a Ham radio or other 'electronics geek', they might be able to breath new life into it on the cheap. (It's always a bummer when a couple hundred dollar piece of electronics fails from a <$1 part)

Chapter 21 :   Ryder was in mid-laugh, helping Zuma carefully stack the last of the blocks, when Daddy appeared at the edge of the playroom. His expression was gentle, patient, and warm. “Hey, kiddo,” Daddy said softly, bending down to Ryder’s level. “Mind if we take a quick break? I need to help you out with something.” Ryder frowned slightly, looking up at him. “Something…?” Daddy knelt fully now, giving Ryder space to step back if he wanted. “Just a little check-up,” he said kindly. “Looks like your diaper’s a bit wet, and we don’t want you getting uncomfortable. Then you can come right back to the party.” Ryder hesitated, feeling a small pang of embarrassment. The thought of being pulled away from the fun, the laughter, the bright toys, made him shift nervously. But Daddy’s calm, patient presence made the tension easier to bear. “Okay…” Ryder whispered, letting Daddy gently guide him toward the nursery. Once inside, Daddy laid out the changing area, soft pads and fresh supplies ready. Ryder climbed onto the surface slowly, fidgeting with his hands. Daddy’s hands were steady, moving calmly and slowly, speaking all the while in that soft, grounding voice he had learned to trust. “You know,” Daddy said quietly, “it’s okay to feel nervous sometimes. Everyone does. Even grown-ups.” Ryder looked up at him, cheeks pink. “I… I was nervous being here at first,” he admitted, voice small but honest. “I didn’t know if… if anyone would like my nursery… or my toys… or me.” Daddy’s eyes softened, and he reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind Ryder’s ear. “Oh, buddy,” he said gently. “I get it. But look at you now. You’re laughing, showing your friends your favorite things, having fun. You made it happen.” Ryder’s shoulders relaxed a little as he felt the warm reassurance. “I… I love it,” he murmured, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I really do. I like… everything. And I like that they… they didn’t laugh at me.” Daddy smiled, patting Ryder lightly on the back. “See? That’s because they get it, Ryder. And you know what? You should be proud of your nursery—and yourself. You made a space where everyone can have fun.” Ryder exhaled, finally letting some of the remaining tension slip from his chest. Daddy finished changing him carefully, keeping the process gentle and unobtrusive. Every motion was patient, slow, and familiar, like a quiet promise that Ryder was safe and cared for. “All done,” Daddy said, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “Fresh and comfy. Ready to get back to your friends?” Ryder nodded eagerly, climbing down and brushing imaginary dust from his shorts. “Yeah,” he said, voice brighter, more confident. “I want to go back. I want to keep playing!” Daddy lifted him briefly into a hug, holding him close. “That’s my brave boy,” he said softly. “Let’s go show them how much fun we can have.” Hand in hand, Ryder and Daddy returned to the nursery and playroom, laughter already spilling out from the mats, balloons, and treasure hunt—this time, Ryder fully present, fully comfortable, and fully part of the party. Chapter 22 :    The party had moved to the dining terrace, the sun dipping toward the horizon and lanterns beginning to glow along the palms. A long table was set with brightly colored plates, napkins, and a tower of cupcakes, along with a large cake in the center. Bowls of ice cream waited nearby, their soft sweetness drifting in the warm evening air. Ryder’s stomach fluttered with excitement and nerves as he approached the table. But when Daddy and Papa gently lifted him into his high chair—softly padded and slightly smaller than the others—his excitement faltered. “Wait…” he whispered, looking at his friends sitting on the low stools at the table, hands reaching for cake. “Why… why am I up here?” Daddy and Papa exchanged a glance. “Just so we can help you get your first bite, kiddo,” Daddy said softly. “We want to make sure it’s fun and safe. Then you can eat at your own pace.” Ryder’s small hands clenched the sides of the tray. He felt a surge of frustration, like being treated differently, like he wasn’t part of the group. “I… I don’t want to be up here!” he muttered, eyes downcast. Skye leaned over with a reassuring grin. “Hey, it’s okay! You’re just making sure you get all the frosting and ice cream, right?” Zuma and Rocky nodded, smiling. “Yeah! We’ll cheer you on!” Zuma said, bouncing lightly. “Cake tastes better when someone’s helping you!” Ryder hesitated, still nervous, but the warmth in their voices eased the edge of his frustration. Daddy handed him a small spoon with a dab of frosting, and Ryder tentatively touched it to his lips. The sweetness hit his tongue, and he made a tiny, surprised smile. “See?” Papa said, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “Nothing to worry about.” Encouraged, Ryder scooped more frosting, then ice cream, carefully at first… and then, with a little less care. A smear of chocolate landed on his cheek, some frosting on his nose, a little bit dripping onto the tray. He looked down, alarmed, cheeks flaming. Daddy chuckled softly. “Messy is okay, Ryder. We’ve got plenty of napkins.” Papa handed him another spoon, and Ryder’s confidence grew. He dove in with more gusto, giggling as Skye cheered him on, Zuma tossed a small paper napkin his way, and Rocky carefully guided a scoop onto his spoon. Ryder’s hands were coated in chocolate and ice cream, the tray sticky and glistening, but he didn’t care. The nervousness that had shadowed him all day gave way to laughter and indulgence. He squished a small piece of cake between his fingers and giggled when a dollop landed on his chin. “You’re doing great, Ryder!” Skye said, clapping her hands lightly. “I wish I had frosting like that on my nose!” “Messy is part of the fun!” Zuma added, making Ryder laugh so hard he almost dropped his spoon. Daddy and Papa leaned close, guiding him gently, keeping him steady, but letting him enjoy every messy, joyful bite. Ryder felt safe, indulged, and truly part of the celebration for the first time. By the time his plate was empty—mostly eaten, mostly smeared—he leaned back, sticky fingers pressed to his chest, a huge grin spreading across his face. “That… that was amazing,” he said, voice bright with happiness. “Yes, it was,” Daddy said softly, brushing a bit of frosting from Ryder’s cheek. “And you enjoyed it every single messy bit of the way.” Papa nodded, hugging him gently. “We love seeing you happy, kiddo. That’s what this party’s all about.” Ryder looked at his friends—Skye, Zuma, Rocky—all smiling, still licking frosting from their hands or nibbling cupcakes. He felt a warm glow spread in his chest. I belong here. This is fun. I can be me, and they like me anyway. And for the first time that day, Ryder laughed freely, messy face and all, fully part of the party, fully part of this new, wonderful world.   Chapter 23 :   The sky deepened to violet as the last streaks of sunset slipped behind the palms. Lanterns glowed warmly along the terrace, and the air carried the mingled scents of cake, salt, and night-blooming flowers. Plates were mostly empty now, napkins crumpled, and laughter had softened into contented chatter. Ryder sat in his high chair, pleasantly full and very sticky, watching Skye, Zuma, and Rocky finish their treats. His eyelids felt heavier than before, the excitement of the day slowly draining into a warm, drowsy haze. Zuma stretched and yawned. “That was the best party ever,” she declared. “Definitely,” Skye agreed, smiling at Ryder. “Thanks for sharing your home with us.” Ryder’s chest warmed at the words. “I… I’m really glad you came,” he said, voice small but happy. Rocky gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder. “We’ll always come when you need us, buddy.” The reassurance settled deep inside him, steady and comforting. Soon the plates were cleared and the terrace quieted. Daddy lifted Ryder carefully from the high chair, cradling him against his chest. Ryder rested his messy cheek against Daddy’s shoulder without protest, too tired to feel embarrassed now. Papa wiped his hands and face with a warm cloth, gentle and unhurried. “All clean,” Papa murmured. Ryder gave a soft hum, eyes half-closed. The lantern light flickered across the sea beyond them, and the rhythmic hush of waves felt almost like breathing. “Want to say goodnight to your friends?” Daddy asked softly. Ryder stirred, reaching one arm out. Skye leaned in first, giving him a careful hug. “Night, Ryder. We love you.” “Night!” Zuma said, squeezing him gently. Rocky added, “Sleep good, okay? Tomorrow we can play more.” Ryder nodded sleepily. “Night… guys,” he murmured, already sinking back into Daddy’s shoulder. They watched as Skye, Zuma, and Rocky headed down the lantern-lit path toward the guest wing, their voices fading into the warm tropical night. Daddy carried Ryder inside the mansion, footsteps soft against marble floors. The vast house, so bright and overwhelming earlier, now felt hushed and protective. Papa walked beside them, one hand resting lightly on Ryder’s back. In the nursery, lamplight glowed golden over the soft rugs and gentle colors. The rocking chair waited near the window, curtains lifting in the night breeze. Daddy settled into it, Ryder curled against him, while Papa drew a light blanket over them both. For a moment, no one spoke. The chair creaked softly, back and forth, back and forth. Outside, the ocean breathed. Ryder’s fingers curled in Daddy’s shirt. “Daddy?” he whispered. “I’m here, kiddo,” Daddy answered, voice low and warm. Ryder hesitated, then murmured, “Today… was really good.” Daddy kissed his hair. “I’m so glad.” A small pause. Then, almost shyly: “I think… I like it here now.” Papa’s hand came to rest over Ryder’s back, steady and proud. “We hoped you would,” he said softly. “This is your home, sweetheart.” The word home settled around Ryder like the blanket—soft, safe, undeniable. He breathed in slowly, listening to the familiar rhythm of Daddy’s heartbeat beneath his ear, Papa’s hand warm on his back, the ocean whispering beyond the window. The fear that had filled him on arrival felt distant now, replaced by fullness and belonging. “Love you,” Ryder mumbled, voice slipping toward sleep. “Love you too,” Daddy and Papa answered together. The rocking slowed. Ryder’s breathing deepened. Lantern light flickered across the nursery walls, and the island night held them gently—family at last, the long day closing in quiet peace.  

Blue! (I did umpire work for Softball and Little League many moons ago.)

Umpire

Hi and welcome from the UK!!