Lamp, meet Toilet

Yesterday I was explaining to the boy that I now have a Blog. I explained to him that he will be featured in said Blog, and that it will likely include some of his… let us call them “exploits”. Actually, I think I told him I would be writing about the stupid-ass things he occasionally does, and that having them revealed in the Blog is in fact his punishment for every so often being a complete idiot. And by idiot, I really mean being a thirteen year old. He immediately told me that I was not to use his name, and I assured him that I would not, and that I planned to refer to him simply as The Boy. He said he preferred to be called “Lamp”, because that is just the kind of guy he is.

I find being around a thirteen year old boy to actually be quite fascinating. He and all his friends are such a bizarre combination of intellectual maturity like cheese sprinkled at random onto a noodley bed of impulsive actions, thoughtless behavior, random kindness and resentful frustration. With hormone sauce. They all have effortless musical talents most adults would kill for, and they are all as awkward and adorable as Saint Bernard puppies. I never had any brothers, so most of the time I find them delightful as long as I stay far enough away to avoid the smell.

So anyhow, we recently made the decision to get Lamp his own iPhone. His little sister, The Responsible One, has had one for about a year now, and it has been a small point of contention. She got hers mainly because he already had a phone, which was provided by his father. This phone had proven useless for the purposes of reaching him because after six months of neglecting to charge it, neglecting to carry it, and repeatedly losing it, his father forbade him to remove it from the premises. This phone had no data capabilities, and was most certainly NOT an iPhone, so it held little appeal for him and as a result spent all of its time at his dad’s apartment. Mostly turned off. His sister, on the other hand, could be trusted to carry and charge her phone, and thus provided me with a means to keep in touch with them when spending time with their dad. She also immediately installed the safety lock screen with a passcode so that Lamp could never, ever use her phone without permission. And groveling.

I decided to finally get him his own because he was spending more time out and about by himself, or with friends, and I wanted a way to reach HIM specifically. I figured that an iPhone would hold more appeal for him as he could also listen to music, play games, and use the internet, thereby providing him with an incentive to charge it and care for it. He didn’t get the latest model, because I never get the latest model of any Apple product, but he was still utterly, completely thrilled. He carried it with him with the dedication and loving devotion of a father penguin caring for his egg through the harsh polar winter. He had it about 30 hours before the Incident.

As I was coming downstairs I heard something between a shriek and a squawk and by the time I arrived he was frantically drying his new iPhone with his shirt. It seems that he had taken it with him to the bathroom.

And dropped it.

In the toilet.

Which he had just peed in.

When I asked him why, WHY??? would he bring it with him into the bathroom, he said, and I quote, “I was testing the light.”

Once I had finished laughing at him I was just grateful that he was not testing the camera.

I was also a little impressed. Had he dropped anything else into a bowl full of fresh, warm urine I am pretty damn sure that I would have been recruited to fish it out. This is a boy who doesn’t even like to scrape out the inside of his own pumpkin at Halloween. But in this case he was like the proverbial 105 pound woman who lifts a car off of her beloved child. He didn’t hesitate. He acted! And in the end, no lasting harm was sustained by the phone, which I think is a testament to the engineering and foresight of the folks at Apple. I am tempted to send them a user testimonial, but I am not sure how useful it would be to them for marketing purposes.

So one minute I am tearing my hair out trying to find ANY sense of logic in “testing the light”, and the next minute I am unimaginably proud. Last night I took him to see Argo (which was great by the way) and ALREADY pretty pleased that my 13 year old son wanted to see a movie about the Iranian hostage crisis. As we walked through the theater lobby I noticed a poster for a Twilight movie marathon, and I was unable to resist teasing him a little by suggesting that I get him a ticket. After the predictable snort of derision, I reminded him that it might be a good place to meet girls.

His immediate response?

“Not the right kind.”

GOOD boy. YOU get a biscuit!


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