You know how your mom refuses to use the ATM because she doesn't "trust it?" All you can think is jeez woman, come on over to technology-land. It's nice over here. Well, I'm convinced my son will definitely be saying the same things about me some day. Do you know how I know this? He already knows how to operate my damn iPhone better than I do. It's unbelievable.
Did you know that you can swipe your home screen to the side and this nifty search screen comes up? I didn't. I also didn't know that I had Stevie B's Party Your Body accessible and playable. My son does though. He also knows how to favorite tweets, take voice memos, and photograph himself. Here's my favorite of his self-portraits:
I will figure out everything about you, peasant phone. I am your evil overlord.
Yesterday, I got an email from myself that said, "Hola." How in the hell? Apparently my phone has predictive scripts in other languages, too. Maybe Lucien will show me how to use that someday.
Last week, I attempted to call my husband from my "favorites" screen. His name is always in the same place - at the bottom of the list. I sort of pressed in that general area without looking, and all of the sudden I am making a face-time call to a real estate lawyer I used three years ago. I'm sure she didn't find that creepy at all.
My husband thinks he's got it figured out by setting a password to his phone. A couple days ago Lucien disabled it for 60 minutes.
Moral of the story - don't let your child use your phone. Ever. Once it starts, you can't stop the insanity.