Where I Emerge From the Dark Ages

Yesterday my girls and I made a rare trip to the mall, where we went to the Apple store.  I was expecting a scene of total chaos and mayhem to accompany the official launch of the iPhone 4S.  While I hoped to perhaps procure one for MOI, I didn't think it would be possible what with my mini-entourage not being terribly patient waiting in line.  But while there were many security officers milling about, and a very crowded store, I was able to walk to one of the many hipster Apple employees (is it a requirement to be a hot nerd to work for Apple?), who asked me what kind of phone I wanted and what provider, and ushered me down a roped-off corridor into the waiting embrace (OK, OK, she didn't hug me) of a lovely girl who helped me get my new iPhone set up!

Hallelujah! 

The girl then helped me transfer my contacts from my old phone...after she removed the duct tape.  She looked like she was going to throw up when I gave her my old phone - like it might give her herpes.

Yes, as pricey as an iPhone is, I think I deserved it after carrying around this atrocity for so long.  And of course anyone who pens a Hip Mom column has to have the appropriate technology, oui? 


My GAWSH my job is expensive. 

So I trotted the girls to the plastic mall playground, set them loose, and then became one of those mothers who TOTALLY IGNORES her children, and is completely oblivious to her surroundings.  I practiced typing; I futzed around with the settings; I tried to hack into various WiFi hotspots; I had no idea what I was doing.   

But:  it's like a whole new world, you all!  I can text easily (once I get used to the typing screen).  I can check my email on my phone!  I can take gorgeous pictures!  I can play songs!

Stop laughing, you more sophisticated mummies out there. 

Alas, I have hardly seen my iPhone since I got it, so enamored are the CHILDREN with my phone.  They have already downloaded three games, and my eldest is playing mind games with Siri. 

Oh you all.  I am having a grand time.  But give me the business if you see me in about two weeks with my head buried in my iPhone and my kids eating dirt and throwing rocks in the street.

Well, maybe give me three weeks.