I was roaming all over the house looking for my phone. Cause, you know, I had pictures on it that I was going to use for about 5 articles.

I was muttering “where is my phone?”

Pone. Zack, the two year old very near death (because I’m about to want to kick his ass), says and hands me my dripping wet phone.

I figure, I’ll be calm what’s done is done, he’s just a baby.

Maybe it will dry out, I think. I take the battery out and leave my broken phone on the counter.

Two seconds later I walk outside and there he is in the baby pool with my phone and the battery and this is what I did:

I got in his face and yelled NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!! and then I picked him up and took him to time out.

So what? I still have a broken freaking phone.

This is the THIRD death of phone I’ve had since I was a reluctant cell convert only a year and a half ago. Every single one of them was Kid + WATER related (toilet and shower, now baby pool).

Of course, when I find myself in the presence of my cell phone engineer cousin, all I want to talk about is Why the hell can’t you make a waterproof cell phone?

Because we want you to buy more phones.

I knew it!

So, don’t call me. I can’t call you. I don’t know your phone number. I don’t have it written down. Email me. If you don’t have email – I guess our relationship is over.

Photo source: Empowering Girls: So Sioux Me (Could anyone want to kick that baby’s ass? Yeah. I could. I have to restrain myself every single time he drowns my F$%^! Phone!)

Post from: Blisstree

Death of Phone