OK – So I Broke My iPhone

Now I have no way to communicate with anyone unless I use email, text, or the house phone. I’m … I’m just … just shattered! The world into which I was thrust, and learned to inhabit, has ended. I will never be the same again … until the new one arrives. That will happen when I find time to call AT&T to see about my mishap.

Actually, it still works fine. It just looks kinda sad, and I can’t carry it around in my hip pocket any more.

I really don’t understand how dropping it on a linoleum covered floor would break it when dropping it in the driveway, and on various sidewalks, didn’t. All it got then was little dings and dents and it still continued to chug right along. Even this time, with the screen glass front riddled with cracks, it’s still chugging along, but it’s a hazard to my health and welfare.

First, the dazzling cracks are mainly on the upper end of the screen, perfect for slicing up one’s ear while pressing it firmly to hear a conversation while in a noisy room, or in the bathroom when the toilet has been flushed, or just because you can’t hear very well — stuff like that. So, yes, it still works, but it concerns me.

Second, while texting, something I find myself doing more and more, I fear the little cracks will slice my left thumb to shreds so tend to avoid words that require me to use my left thumb while in landscape mode. I’m walking a narrow dotted line down a path to permanent injury unless I get it replaced. And the dots are getting farther apart.

So …

“I promise, Mom, I won’t carry the new one around in my hip pocket and I won’t drop it.”

“Ever.”

“Honest. “

“I will quit texting at 10 pm, on the dot, every night, except weekends.

“I will not take naughty pictures of myself and post them for the world to see.”

“Just for my friends.”

“No, I unfriended Johnny when he shared the last picture.”

“I know, it isn’t the first time, but it won’t happen again.”

“I promise.”

“Really .”

“Honest, it won’t happen again.”

“I will be good. VERY good.”

“Oh ,pleeeeeeeze, Mom!”

“I’ll die if I have to use that old pink razor flip phone again. It’s ancient.”

“I know, it still works, but it’s painfully hard to text on and it doesn’t have video chat.”

“All my friends have new smartphones so it should be such a big deal.”

“I’ve gotta have a good-looking phone that my friends will envy. An unbroken one they will not make fun of.”

“It’s imperative for my social life that I have a new, whole smartphone.”

“I’ll die if I don’t get one.”

“Why do I pay insurance on the phone if I can’t get a new one?”

“OK – why do you pay insurance if I can’t get a new one?”

“No, I didn’t break it on purpose so I could get a new one.”

“It just … fell.”

“I’ll run away to Spain if I don’t get a new phone.”

“I’ll live there forever and never come back home to show you my babies.”

“All six of them.”

“Oh.”

“You already packed my bag.”

“You hate me.”

“I’m leaving and never coming back.”

“Wait. You’re taking me to school tomorrow, right?”

“Noooooo. Not the bus. You know I hate to ride the bus.”

“If I had a new phone, though, I’d do that.”

“At least for a week.”

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