Rest in pieces

Yesterday, I got the news that I’ve been expecting but dreading to hear: “I’m sorry, but there’s nothing more we can do.” Pendek umur. Telefon baruku. See - I still refer to it as my new phone, eventhough I’ve used it for almost a year. My rule-of-thumb for a handphone lifecycle is two years at least.

What happened was – my son likes to play with my phone (already showing gadget-philia tendencies! Must have inherited it from his Abi), and when I say play, I meant put it in his mouth. Apa lagi - masuklah air liur ke dalamnya, maka rosaklah ia. MDH had reminded me many times not to let him play with my phones, but sometimes I’m pretty desperate to amuse my baby (excuses, excuses). But my real problem is just that I’m not firm enough! Hmm.. that’s a parenting skill that I have to learn and acquire (note to self: put in ever-growing list).

For someone who was actually one of the last among her peers to get a handphone, the ‘demise’ of my phone was sorely felt, especially during the couple of days it took me to borrow a spare old phone. To think that this technology did not exist (widely) merely 6 to 7 years back.

• I couldn’t call the office to let someone know that I’ll be late for a meeting because I was stuck in a traffic jam.
  
• I had to borrow a colleague's phone for a business activity that requires me to be contactable.
  
• My son missed his over-the-speaker goodnights from his Abi.
  
• I had to use the payphone at every change of public transport to let MDH who was picking me up know the latest estimated time of arrival, what with the irregularities in our public transports.
  
• I had to get my little brother to knock on my door in the morning because I have no other alarm clock.
  
• I missed watching clips of video and audio of my baby's delightful smiles, laughters and giggles (and cries too actually) at work.
  
• I lost a lot of contacts in the address book, resulting in (among others) inability to send Selamat Hari Raya SMS to some people as well as receiving SMS from ‘unknown’ numbers.

Moral of the story: don’t let your baby play with your handphone!
As for the broken handphone, it’ll continue to be my son’s most expensive ‘toy’ to-date. At least it can still serve a purpose.