If you've been following this blog for awhile, you know that Chris and I have been belaboring the purchase of an iPhone for months.
Maybe I should qualify the word "belaboring".
Me? I'm a gadgety, trendy, gimmicky person, ready to get on board with the latest and greatest invention, without always rationally thinking it through (remember Sophie, ya'll?). Soooo, of course, I have been begging for an iPhone.
And Chris - practical, pragmatic, sensible Chris - has been obdurately refusing to acquiesce on the subject, based on the assumption that the iPhone is my new Sophie, and citing a failure on my part to do my due diligence in the form of "research". To wit, he wanted me to provide evidential proof of how the iPhone would improve our lives. (I know, whatever, right? Insert big eye roll here). And to which my response has been that I have, all along, been conducting anectodotal research, which I'm hoping sounds very scientific-y to him, but in fact means that I have been polling people. People who may or may not include: friends, enemies, neighbors, strangers, Hanh, the girl who waxes my eyebrows, Jennifer, the checkout lady at Wal-Mart, or Ashish, the housekeeper at work. Basically, anybody I see swiping their fingers across that cute little flat, shiny lozenge I like to romanticize as my prospective gateway to cyber-paradise.
Okay, it could be that I want the little runner girl icon on the screen of my running buddy's iPhone to congratulate ME on how far I've run while training for the race next month. It might could be that I am exceedingly jealous of another friend's bar code scanner application that tells her where to find items in a store drastically discounted. And I want to play Words with Friends, because, hello? I kill at Scrabble. We're talking, reigning Thomas Family Champ, so I know I could rock that game. But overall, I think I might be most excited to have Dora the Explorer videos at my fingertips to distract the two beautiful little darlings who would rather be playing tag and who-can-scream-the-loudest with each other than sitting still at my side in any given scenario that requires quiet, well-behaved children.
Whatever my motives were/are/might someday be, the point is, Chris said no.
He said no.
I begged and I pleaded. I bargained and I bartered. I might have even thrown in a tantrum or two for effect - of which, with my husband, FYI ya'll, my histrionics have none. Then one day, I picked a big ol' fight with him under the auspices of the dumb iPhone that ended with me very theatrically stomping my feet to the bedroom and slamming the door (Okay, really, I just gingerly closed the door because the girls were napping, and no fight or phone is worth waking sleeping babies, but that doesn't quite have the same dramatic effect).
And that's when I realized, I was arguing with him, not over the stupid iPhone, but because I wanted to win. I wanted my way. I didn't want to be told no. In essence, I was acting exactly like my three-year-old.
After simmering down, I skulked out of the bedroom and did again exactly what my three-year-old would do: I ignored it and pretended it never happened.
Although I did resolve to stop pestering my husband about it and just let him make this phone decision in due time.
Which he did.
And let me just say....
No, kidding! Only kidding!
But we did end up getting iPhones. Probably because my Blackberry very conveniently committed suicide right there in the Verizon store, and was unable to be resuscitated despite aggressive lifesaving measures. And (real reason) probably also because Dora videos are going to come in handy next week when Chris is flying solo with the girls to meet me at Disney.
Not to overstate my point, but have I mentioned iLove my new iPhone, Honey?
But iLove you more... :)