Pride Comes Before A Fall

Sometime this summer my husband mentioned wanting to buy me an iPhone. He was going to upgrade his phone and he was thinking of getting two. Please don't, I said, I am not trustworthy with expensive gadgets.  I've lost 2 pairs of sunglasses, an inheritance check, let my cell phone be a chew toy for a cranky baby, and somehow managed to lose the eyeglasses I was wearing.  Do not give me an expensive phone I will be in constant fear of losing.

I also had always thought it was kind of silly to have an iPhone. If I had a full-time job, one where you got paid, and it was useful to my job, sure. But in my day to day life I was getting along just fine with my phone. I had changed my ringtone to Pierce Brosnan singing "SOS", and I had finally figured out texting. I was good to go. I used my husband's iPhone on trips but just to check email and the occasional facebook update.

But then the phone arrived. It was smaller then the iPhone 3, it was a little sleeker - if that is even a word.  I got a turquoise blue cover and fell absolutely in love with my phone.  It didn't matter that I could barely use it. The first couple of months I swore there was something wrong with the touch screen as I was constantly hanging up on people.  It took me some time to figure out how to work that little machine, but once I did I fell absolutely in love with it.

I pulled out my phone everywhere I went: grocery store, parks, camping trips, even while driving (reason why it is good I lost it).  I used the map to get everywhere, even places I had been before. I became hooked on solitare and hearts - perfect games to play while the kids are taking baths.  The phone became my addiction.

I even became, shall I say, 'cocky' about my phone. I would check out other peoples' phones and check for round edges or square edges. Round ones, huh? Well, let's just see mine: Oh, that's right it is an iPhone 4. So much more powerful than yours (I don't know if that is true, just my thoughts at the time).

Then the dreaded day came. The day I lost my phone. Actually, the 2nd time I lost my phone. The first time it was returned to me at Costco, this time the ending is not happy.  The same day of the matches incident with my middle child, I had to go to a place to look at 600 nativity sets. Yes, 600. This was a no-touch place, and I was taking all 3 of my extremely well-behaved children (and my MIL). Needless to the say it was a little stressful. By the time we got back in the car and I was pulling out, I thought, "where is my phone?" I couldn't find it but it is always in the bottom of my purse. No worries. But when I got home it wasn't there.  I called the place I had been, I even drove back and retraced my steps, but no luck.

For a week I went phone-less, in hopes of having my iPhone returned to me. Every time the phone rang, I held my breath hoping to hear "your phone has been found!".  None of that happened. My husband did receive an old iPhone from his brother and he gave that to me. I had thought that nothing could be as bad as having an iPhone 4 and going back to your normal cell phone. I was wrong.  Going back to an old, slow, iPhone 3, is way, way, worse.

I know this is silly. I know I need to be thankful to have a phone, especially an iPhone. I really do know this, but every time I see my husband's phone, a little bit of jealousy eats at my soul. It doesn't help that his phone is permanently attached to him: movie times - check iPhone, weather - check iPhone, change the channel on the TV - check iPhone, rules for bananagrams - yep, check iPhone.

I am thankful for my phone, the new turquoise case helps, and one day I will look back on this and laugh. Just not quite yet.