So after years, literally years, of pleading with my wife that she get rid of the brick she referred to as a cell phone (purchased in 2005, I kid you not) I have, at last, achieved success.
While my appeals garnered responses like, “It makes calls, that’s all I need it for,” and “Phones are stupid, people shouldn’t have them,*” I was gobsmacked when she turned to me last week and said, with a straight face, “Would you get me a smart phone?”
Why did the technophobe become the technophile, you ask? Her daughter, is the simple answer. Her daughter asked me last weekend why her mom didn’t have a smart phone and the bells went off in my head. This, I knew, was the perfect way to get my lovely wife away from her monochrome flip phone and into something more representative of this millennium.
“You should suggest it to her,” I skillfully replied (because if nothing, I have mad skillz at … stuff). If her daughter wanted it, mommy would do it.
I was right. Her daughter asked her to do it and she did it for that reason and that reason alone.
Dagmar is now the proud owner of an iPhone 5, which is a better phone than mine. I rushed right out and got it, lest her desire to own a piece of modern technology faded and she became once again enamored with that paper weight she clung too.( I promise you it had a rotary dial on it. She would dial a nine and have to wait five minutes for the rotary wheel to reset — and most of you didn’t get that joke did you?)
I think this is a good time to point out that I haven’t used the word fuck, shit or “that really bad word” once yet. Have you noticed? It wasn’t intentional at all. Isn’t that a hoot?
Boobies! There I feel a bit better, not much but a bit.
Which reminds me, here I am in a hotel room without any access to images of boobs, save strangers’ on the internet, and all my lovely bride is sending me are fucking (wow I finally swore in a real sentence … I’m getting my stride back) photos of the cat. Really honey, is it too much to ask for a little “bow chicka wow wow” at the end the evening?
So new iPhone in hand, out into the modern world she goes. I felt uncertain, at first, as if I had released a blind person from their curse. I can call blind people cursed here because blind people can’t read this. So suck on that blind people.
The first few days you watch a person with their first smart phone is like watching a toddler explore the playground. Sure they’ll eat some sand (send a text that reads “you are a butt thread,”) hurt themselves on the monkey bars, (send photos of their foot) and get pushed down by a 3-year-old but hey — that’s part of growing up!
I have noticed, in the past, when she wasn’t working, Facebook wasn’t quite the evil, retarded (it’s totally evil and retarded, honey) stop on the internet she always claimed it was. Meaning, with a bit of leisure time and ready computer access she was quite the little commenter. She even did updates.
Even. Did. Updates.
A few of you who are friends with my her on Facebook may have noticed a slight uptick in comments from my lovely frau. You can thank the iPhone(though she still has that retarded kitten as her profile picture).
I will also, for the foreseeable future, not be making comments about your boobs, ladies. I’m totally kidding. I will still be totally be making comments about your boobs.
Here’s a few boob comments I’ve been “developing.”
That’s boobtastic! You’re boobalicious! I’m boobcited about tits, I meant this.
I can’t wait for warmer weather. Can you tell?
So anyway I love boobs. Boobs, boobs, boobs.
Oh shit, wait – this is about my wife getting an iPhone 5.
Honey, I love you. Text me baby. Text me boobs!
* that’s an actual quote.