Brrrring Brrring bring me a decent phone. Please?!
My name’s Hannah. And I am a mobilephone-rage-aholic.
I have, shall we say, a violent history with my latest mobile phone. I threw it in pure, calculated rage and it hit the wall (I maintain, Officer, I was aiming for the sofa, but my aim was off) and of course, it died. I had to sift through bits of old biscuit and near empty packets of dried out baby wipes in the toy box until I found the archaic nokia we let the boys play with. No, we dont donate our phones to African’s. And it turned up trumps. It was sticky and smelled like feet but it worked. For 3 months. Then that died too, but it was old and had been abused by the children for years so hats off to the little fella. On the off chance I tried the new old phone and I imagined it did this *shrugged at me, called me a few swear words and said “ok i will decide to work again, but just until the contract runs out. I want a phone case, I will turn off whever and whyever I want if I need a rest and you keep those kids away from me”. I agreed to the terms and conditions.
It has a week left to play with me like a cat does with a mouse and then the contract is over.
Todays blog is about phones.
Husband has a half day holiday today so meant I could look for a phone online without hassel from the kids whose only ideas are that it should be “blue”. Alex’s opinion carries no weight whatsoever – he was talking to my Nectar club card today having a good old pretend chat with Grandad.
I can not tell you enough how MUCH I DESPISE searching for new phones. I hope the capital letters will go some way towards expressing it.
I spent more time searching online out of curiosity for the phone I had in 2000 than looking for my new one. Can’t find it. It looked like this.
I wasn’t allowed to use it though. It was for emergencies at University. If I used it I got told off. By my mum. I was only allowed to call or be called after 6pm from landline or to a landline.
I get so confused looking for phones – why are the offers all defaulting to a 24month contract?! I don’t want that – I want 18 months. I don’t know if I have to pay for internet access or not. What is an App? (I honestly don’t know – I know to some people that is like saying “where do babies come from?”). What does an android mean and why would I want one?! Why should I choose a HTC over a Nokia Lumus (can’t even be bothered to check my spelling online)?! It got too much and I wanted to have a little cry. I don’t handle stress well. I can cope with wolf spiders, strange noises at night downstairs and discovering what they are (picture frames falling off walls invariably) and hospital stays with children. I can’t handle finding a new phone. Or maths.
So I pottered round the kitchen for a bit…noticed that the left over mexian bean soup in the sink looked like vomit.
I played with the children even though they were playing quite happily with their dad. It all went tits up with this comment from an angry Edward “NO MUMMY! The big green crocodile doesn’t want to be snapped by another crocodile. you are the FISH. THE FISH!! *humphs and stomps off muttering* Green crocodile with the big long teeth is off to fight the big fat bear. OK?!”. I felt like I was drunk. I could start drinking…that would distract me from the phones.
I found it very interesting when husband rubbed the teaspoon on his back after making a cup of tea “check this out, Han. I am utilising the heat” and we discussed uses of other kitchen utensils and how we could save money on utility bills with them.
I made a big huge fuss of exiling the bull dog clip Alex caught his hand in from the house. “WHO would bring such a weapon in to an environment full of children?!” (me). I put it in the bin, in a tesco bag and then even took the bin out. To the big dustbin in the garden. Ie, not throwing the bin bag out the back door where it ususally lands with a farty puff of air on the back step.
I was internet banking when I overhead this;
Ed – “daddy I have two balls you have no balls”. This threw me. We had discussed vasectomies recently but not castration. Until I heard a football, or two in fact, being kicked round the kitchen. I went in to play some football (even though normally I operate a “No balls in the house” policy).
I never clean my car. Ever. It smells like dried mud and here are the contents..sweet wrappers (some intact, some just those annoying corner bits that get ripped off), 6 childrens books, one baby shoe, the bobble off a bobble hat, Michael McIntyre’s biography, one mitten, a child’s monkey hat (doesn’t fit either child and hasn’t since last winter), some children’s artwork (bad mummy), a bank statement, carrier bags, a plastic jug, the lid off a diet coke bottle and 3 lolly sticks.
I went to one of these
Even though I knew that it was 3pm and school kicking out time so we would hit traffic. I didn’t even mind getting stuck behind 3 other cars waiting for the carwash. One even broke down a little bit and there was an extra delay. Didn’t mind.
Didn’t need to. Items on my shopping list (written out in my best handwriting and in detail) were a bottle of water for Colin (the fish – needs cleaning out) and some stamps.
Didn’t mind when I got stuck behind one of these
This blog entry is a cry for help. Don’t let me suffer anymore. Please help me find the right phone for me. What I want is…touchy bits that whizz around the screen, 300+ minutes of calls, unlimited texts, access to internet and whatever how much mb’s I need (to get facebook, twitter and wordpress), camera and ability to store photos. Think of the little ginger girl who had the ancient nokia and help…