Throwing Caution to the Wind - and iPhones in the Bathtub!

Me guilty??

Kerplunk!

That was the sound of Gavriella's iPhone taking a dive into my bathtub.

Here is how it all transpired. It was during one of Gavriella's esteemed visits to our home a few weeks ago. Gavi, because she trusts me more than my parents do, allowed me to play with her fun iPhone. This was even more fun that playing with their non-smart phones! I touched all sorts of colorful icons, I chewed on its sleek veneer, I recorded videos, I placed it down on the floor and picked it up again - and all this without throwing, which was very miraculous.

In fact, mommy was beginning to wonder whether I had turned a corner in this behavioral detriment of mine regarding throwing. Nevertheless she dutifully cautioned Gavi that I may randomly just throw the phone at some point. But Gavi is my friend and she seems to believe I could do no wrong. Not even the unthinkable!

So good was I that I continued wandering the apartment with the phone while mommy and Gavi carried on and even momentarily forgot that I had something valuable in my hand. So while checking on Lucas who was cutely drifting off to sleep they remained oblivious  - until that infamous "kerplunk" dragged mommy back to reality.

See, mommy's mind has a new skill - translating sounds from afar and instantly assessing their danger level. For instance, the sounds of a TV remote clattering to the tile. Bottles being launched from cribs vs. pacifiers being launched from cribs. Babies tumbling from illegal surfaces. Wooden puzzle pieces falling to the ground. Computers slipping to the tile. Things like that. All different threat levels, all requiring a different speed of response.

So in that split second after the kerplunk, mommy processed this: Sound of something being thrown; the dulcet aquatic acoustics indicated a water landing; object sinking to bottom of bathtub; memory that nobody drained the tub post-bath; further memory that the last time anyone saw me I still was holding Gavi's iPhone having ever so conveniently not yet thrown it. Until I found its perfect target.

"*$&#*(^$*#&^&*$Q^*Q&#*," was mommy's response along with a quick dash and a death-defying dive into the bathtub to rescue Gavi's poor iPhone.

Mortified parents. Gracious Gavi. Lucky Daniel. The iPhone acted funny for some time after its bath, but by the end of the visit it was behaving properly. Whew.

Now many things in our apartment has moved up a few levels from the floor. But you can never keep up with a baby. One day we can't reach into the knife drawer and the next day we are using the wooden surfaces as target practice. This is how we roll. And it leaves the adults in our lives having to roll faster, or try to anyway.

Why did I have to throw it, you ask? Because it was in my hand, of course!

The portrait of innocence

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