Tonight, at Scout Pack Meeting, Oliver dropped my phone on the carpeted floor, and the screen went black. I couldn't get it to respond. My life flashed before my very eyes. I thought of all the good times we had together, and things I had planned for us to go and do and see together this weekend in San Francisco, and beyond! I thought of unwritten texts, untaken pictures, un-uploaded Instagrams. There were things I hadn't said to my iPhone. I cursed myself for being so cavalier - how could I let a 19-month-old come between us? I wasn't ready to let go. I vowed I would take better care of my phone. I would protect it from Oliver, the violent techno-toddler. I needed more time.
Thanks to a quick Google search, I figured out how to restore my iPhone back to life! It's called CPR. No, just kidding. It's called holding both buttons down while praying very sinceriously for at least 10 seconds. It was like magic!!
Tomorrow, Oliver and I are going to buy him his own phone --- at the Dollar Store. :)