I'm having one of those weeks where the good and the bad are balancing out and it's confusing unto me. I am discombobulated.
For example, I came home the other day to three diarrhea inducing phone messages but then there were three excited jittery nerves felt in the stomach emails.
Things to dread. Things to be excited for. I guess the good news is that they both leave my stomach in knots and the end result is the same for me, physically.
How is a sick stomach good news? Hmmmm, good question. Just go with it.
On my birthday I was angry with my iPhone for freezing up on me and being a punk and I smacked it. This might be the worst segue in the history of bad segues and I am wondering what the first three sentences of this post have to do with anything.
I simply do not know. Carry on. Back to smacking the phone.
Why would you smack the phone? You are wondering, I know you are. Why would anyone smack an inanimate object? It's not like the iPhone cares to be disciplined. It's not like anything was learned from that experience. Well I learned one thing about jade bracelets but nothing I couldn't have guessed with relatively reasonable accuracy.
However, in that moment, frustrated and needing to feel the strength of my own feminine "nothing gets in the way of me and what I want" power, I wanted to punch something.
So I did.
Except........my jade bracelet got in the way and shattered the screen. On my birthday.
Shame. Head hanging heavy.
Everyone looked at me like "what have you done?" and "how can you be so cruel?" and "it's just a poor defenseless iPhone."
It still worked though so happy birthday to me.
So, I used it and caressed it and made it feel loved.
I may need to tend a naughty parenting class.
However, this poor battered and shattered screen invoked in the man a need.
A desire that would not be resisted.
The longing to take something apart.
He started researching how to fix screens. How to dismantle the delicacy that is known as appleware.
He came home 2 days ago with a brand new screen and said this: "It's looks so easy on the internet. Shouldn't take but 5 minutes."
It was 9:30 at night.
My gut, which is pretty bang on when it comes to instincts related to my husband, said two things to me.
1. not tonight. 5 minutes is code for 2 hours. Tell him to do it tomorrow.
2. say good bye to your beloved. Kiss him farewell for the end is nigh.
I gave my phone a kiss and said "am I kissing my baby good bye?" To which the man replied, "don't be so dramatic."
I waited up for him since I thought it might be rude to go to bed whilst he was performing such delicate surgery on something I consider to be sort of child-like unto me. At one point he dropped a miniscule screw on the floor and dared to look for it.
"You'll never find it," I said encouragingly.
"You have to think positively," he responded.
Anyway, when all is said and done, the new screen on my phone is beautiful, no question. It's smooth and shatter free and my eyes thank him.
The fact that the home button only works when it chooses is only mildly annoying. Which is code for "I want to punch something. Maybe an iPhone?"
Last night I saw him scavenging kijiji looking for old iPhones with broken screens that someone may want to sell him.
And so goes the cycle.