Don’t bother calling me. Seriously, we have one phone left that works and the battery is running low. I wonder how parents of two-year-old boys have the opportunity to save money, ever. Yesterday, in a last ditch effort to buy myself a few moments of cooking peace, I filled the sink with bubbles and plastic sharks and measuring cups. I set Finn on a stool and let him at it. It was bliss and I completed an apple crisp full of apples hand picked by us the day before and even prepared dinner so that it would be quickly on the table between gymnastics and swimming.
When Finn moved on to something else, I drained the sink. Squeaky clean and glistening at the bottom was my cordless phone. At first it worked, although water continuously ran down my shoulder while talking, I was able to use it. But by 5 pm death was certain, the phone kept turning itself on and off and dialing different numbers. At 9, Mr. Fixit gave up and just disconnected the battery.
Apparently Finn has a thing for phones. In June he grabbed Grammy’s for a brief moment and it was never seen again. It seems she’s finally given in to the fact that she’ll never find it; so I guess we’ll both be buying new phones this weekend.
I cannot wait to watch this child have his own children someday. Sweet vengeance!