Well friends, the days of me being the “I’ve never broken a phone” queen are now over with. The whole virginity was lost in about .03 milliseconds, which is approximately .01 milliseconds faster than when I got married. It turns out when you drop your phone on Saturday and break the outside case, you should immediately replace it with a new case so that when you drop it on Monday it won’t be so dramatic and glass shardy all over the patio concrete. While I didn’t cry over the loss of my once LED/HD/whatever makes it so clear and bright screen, I did wince inside a wee bit when realizing I would have to tell my husband what just happened. He has this thing where he likes to say “I am not responsible with my stuff.” In my mind, responsible is another word for boring. Who has time to be responsible when there are giant jelly beans to be eaten and sunshine to soak up? [which is exactly where I was headed until my phone decided to just up and jump out of my hands like a freaking toddler who wet their pants].
Anyhow, all life shattering events must be documented on the ole blog so here we have it.
I have to go run now and and then drown myself in wine while I daydream about how I can convince my husband that I NEED the best phone out there and not his hand me down leftovers that are sitting in the storage room.
Youngest children, I feel for you in this moment.