Okay, so here is how the story went down.
Brent and I got up bright and early two Saturdays ago and packed up our new van and buckled in Blythe and left for vacation. We went to Louisville and then Nashville. I'll write more about the vacation soon enough, because that is not what this story is about.
The first morning we were in Nashville, my brother in law had to go to work, so Kali and I thought that we should, spur-of-the-moment, pack up the three girly girls and head to the zoo. [This proved a good decision as it was approximately the only 4 hours of sunshine we had on our entire vacation]. So we crammed snacks and lunches and drinks and sunscreen and strollers and hats and three little bodies into the van, then Brent crawled through to the back and Kali and I plopped in the front and off we went. Whew. [In case you're wondering, nothing is really "spur-of-the-moment" when you have three kids under age 4 with you…and a very pregnant lady-- my sister! not me! ;)]
We wove through traffic and listened to Caroline
incessantly sweetly talking, then began the unloading process in the zoo parking lot. But then we were off. We checked out birds and monkeys and meerkats like they were going out of style.
About an hour in I realized I probably should snap a few shots of our entourage to send to a very lonely Nana and Papa, who I pictured just sitting at the table, staring at their phone's black screen, waiting for it to buzz with a new picture of granddaughters. I dug through the diaper bag that was crammed under the double wide stroller, found my phone, and snapped a few shots.
We saw flamingos and, I'm not gonna lie, gave each other looks like, "Dude, we totally have the cutest kids here."
We saw a show with
|I know Brent looks unhappy to be there [and Blythe too, for that matter], but he almost broke his face in a biking accident the day before…I should let him blog about that, but it's not really funny actually…|
We pushed our strollers like no one's business and and I noticed in the cement path upon which we trod [I felt like going for the fancy version of "walked over" there, did you like it?] there were "animal tracks" pressed in: it appeared that they let the elephants and giraffes and who-knows-whats out when they poured the cement. Clever. We followed the prints to the elephants, and then near the giraffes decided our girls needed a little pick-me-up and found a bench for lunch.
I snapped this picture of Blythe, totally chillin' out:
And then this one of super mom, Kali, getting her girls taken care of [I know you love this picture, Kali, don't deny it]:
And then, just like everyone says it happens during traumatic events, the details get a little hazy. I know I set my phone on the bench next to Ellie and then proceeded to take Blythe out of her stroller. Brent, wanting to sit on the bench, picked up my phone and laid it on the arm of the bench. I handed him Blythe. Phone was bumped. Phone crashed onto pavement. This has happened before, but the rubber bumper on the phone cover has always protected it. Remember those clever prints I mentioned though? It fell right onto an elephant print, and because of the unleveled surface, it hit funny, and the screen cracked instantly.
I was pretty upset. I didn't say much for about two minutes. And then I just made myself get over it. It's just a phone. It's just a phone. It's just a phone. Was my mantra as I watched the giraffes and my nieces simultaneously chew their food. And then I got a piece of glass stuck in my thumb. But I did get over it and we traipsed on.
Later when we were home and the rain began that wouldn't stop until we were pulling out of their driveway to return to Missouri, I showed the phone to Caroline and explained that I didn't want her to pick it up because she might get cut. This of course prompted many questions. I explained that I had my phone out to take a picture, and then I forgot to put it back in my pocket and it got knocked off.
She looked at me, her big blue eyes furrowed in concern, and said, "Well, my mama gets her phone out to take a picture of us, and then she always puts it right back in her pocket. Did you not know the rules?"
I guess not, Caroline. I guess not.
A few days later Kali and I went to lunch, sans kids [because long ago we both decided not to go sans husbands that would be willing to watch three cranky kids who had spent all week indoors], and as we slid into our chairs and checked our phones to see if our husbands were sending out SOSs yet, I shook my head at my poor phone and said to Kali, "I always judged people that had cracked screens. Like, Really? You can't take care of your stuff?"
She just laughed and said, "That's probably why it happened to you."
Probably. Apparently I don't know the rules AND I'm judgmental. Lesson learned.
[I'm going to order a cheap kit online and try and fix it myself. I'll let you know how that goes.]