This is the only picture (seven months pregnant at Claire's wedding!) I could find of me and my beloved iPhone. Since we moved to New York, my iPhone and I have had, well, a complicated relationship.
I first left my phone in a cab back in September. Eleanor was babysitting while Cate napped. I wanted to maximize my time at the MET and so I took a cab. We don't take cabs often and I employed a habit back when I had a car, I slipped my phone underneath my leg. Stupid, stupid. I realized the phone was gone when I was climbing the steps to the MET. Sea of yellow taxis, none being my taxi. The cab driver's daughter called my mom who emailed me. Eleanor brokered the phone's return. Paid cab driver $80.
The second time I left my phone in a cab, my parents were in town and Telfer and I took them TO THE BRONX for an authentic Italian dinner. It took forever to get up there and the meal was okay, not great. We took a cab back to Manhattan and yes, I employed the phone-under-the-leg-trick yet again. Called phone, cab driver answered. Already back in the Bronx. Returned phone to apartment for $20. Somehow, I have had the two most honest cab drivers in the entire city.
Christmas Eve-Eve. At brunch with Eleanor, Chris, Mendy, Telfer and Cate. Talking, gesturing, submerge phone in a newly refilled cup of coffee (with cream). Stare at phone, can't comprehend what I have done. Finally regroup and pull phone out of coffee. Elizabeth tells me to put phone in a glass of dry rice. Doesn't work. Phone completely wonky. Take phone to Apple Store. Ruined. Buy a new phone on Christmas Eve. Won't tell you how much it cost.
My husband loves me. Thank goodness. New Year's resolution: Treat iPhone with respect. Nine days in, doing good.