I finally got a new phone yesterday.
As much as it pained me to give up my Blackberry, I was growing tired of having to remove the battery and reinstall it every time I wanted to check my email. Plus, on Saturday I got out of the car with my hands full and dropped it on the driveway. Then I stepped on it. I wear a size 11 shoe. Enough said.
After spending over two hours at the phone store yesterday, my husband and I left with brand new Droids. On a related note: If anyone wants to help me set up my four email accounts, there’s a doughnut in it for you.
Our kids had been more than patient while we were choosing phones and getting things changed over. As a reward, we decided to let our son have one of the old Blackberries, so he could still play games and take pictures.
I thought he would be more interested in Hangman, but he started snapping pictures left and right. Inside the car, in the driveway, photos of the dog’s tail, my shoes, his football. You name it, he took a picture of it.
But it wasn’t long before I realized he isn’t so much a photographer as he is a typical boy, because when I was reading my new phone manual I looked up to see him taking pictures of his own butt.