One of the best technology decisions we made last year was switching up our old, clunky phones for sleek, sophisticated SmartPhones. Apparently, in 2010, close to 46 million people in the United States had SmartPhones.  For my family, the decision to choose the iPhone was simple.  We love the technological art pieces that are Apple.
Upgrading to iPhones has revolutionized our household.  Checking email, listening to music, setting morning alarms, using the calculator, having games for the kids, and on and on, are a finger swipe away.  Plus, they are accessible anytime, anywhere. Firing off an email during the day when there is a moment, rather than waiting until evening, is a sweet proposition.

My one-year-old has begun to enjoy throwing her food, and pitching peas has become her best sport.  Ready to go pro, she’s gotten really good with her fastball.  Recently, she pulled a fast one on me and pitched my phone into the air.  It was then that time slowed way, way down.  Watching the device move in bullet time, I am sure I must have muttered the distorted sounding, “No!” as I swiped for it in vain.   The result was disastrous. The corner of the phone hit the wood floor and the glass face shattered.  Staring in shock and in horror I wondered, “Where is my Precious?”

Seeing that beautiful phone look like cracking ice, was bone-chilling.  How would I ever survive without it?  Breaking at the start of a busy week, I counted down the days until I could travel to an Apple Store to have it repaired.   In the meantime, I schlepped around, gingerly using the device anyway.  I couldn’t give it up, I just couldn’t.  I was under its spell.

Given the essential role of the iPhone’s touch screen, the glass shards that lodged in my finger were a big deterrent to using it anytime, as I was accustomed. Use became limited to times when the gain outweighed the pain.  Thus, the SmartPhone experience dropped a few IQ points.  My finger, on the other hand, got smarter after a few swipes.  Bandaid, anyone?

After a close call with my ear on Day Two, I decided to do something drastic.  How would I make it three more days to get the darn thing fixed?  Not certain if the solution is completely industrious or completely pathetic, and not really caring about the distinction,  I put the phone in a Ziploc bag.  A Ziploc bag, I said.  Desperate times bring desperate measures, but I like to think of it as my Ziploc Carrying Case.

The aesthetics of holding up a plastic bag to your ear and talking into it are really attractive, not to mention a great conversation piece. Best of all, it worked!  No more shards in the digits!

If you are finding yourself empathizing with Phone, cracked and zipped up in plastic, think of it this way: at least Phone-in-the-Bag is better off than Jack-in-the-Box.  Phone will leave its confines eventually.   What hope does Jack have?

Some advice?  Get a bumper for your lovey and you won’t have a problem.  And never, absolutely never, teach your baby how to pitch peas.