“Sophie, want to play with my iphone?”
Now that’s a line you’ve never going to hear coming out of my mouth.
It came instead from under a dark green sheet, in the form of Ray, half-asleep and desperate for a few more minutes. Annabelle slept til 9 this morning, and Ray and I would sleep that long, too, but Sophie’s up with the sun, and only willing to put up with “Five more minutes, Sophie! Go back to sleep!” for so long.
I brought her into bed with us, along with New Piglet and the small satin pillow my mother in law made her (or was it Annabelle?) years ago. We lay together quietly for a while (ok, maybe 30 seconds), laughing and cuddling, then she started poking at Ray.
Silently, a hand emerged from the sheet, with the phone. Sophie took it and deftly (better than me, I can tell you that) maneuvered the phone, pulling up the hundreds of pictures Ray’s loaded on. My iphone only has the photos I’ve taken with it; I don’t even know how to use a regular digital camera, let alone load them onto the phone or even access them once they’re on there. Sophie pulled up the digital photos, including a truly hideous shot of me (how good do you look, asleep on a plane?) that I won’t show you, then one of Rosy that I have to post here, by way of comparison with the lame one I posted yesterday.
Sophie snapped a pic of the slumbering Ray. “NO PICTURES!” came from under the sheet. I got one of Sophie on top of the green mass of Dad before he grabbed it back to listen to Radiohead (we’re so freaking hip, huh?).
They say money doesn’t buy happiness, but I’ve gotta say, when Ray bought me an iphone days before Sophie’s last heart surgery, it was a godsend. Of course I had to get him one for Christmas, and now we’re both screwed with the new, better ones coming out, but even with all the times that phone dumps on me, I love love love it.
Now if someone’ll just make one in a toy version that’ll distract Sophie. Not much chance of that.