Defective Cingular Cell Phone Intervention

Today was a really rough day here. It started early on, when I had to break the news to my old Cingular Cell Phone that since I was keeping the replacement this time, it had to be sent back to the Cingular Insurance Warehouse. It immediately became despondent, and I watched helplessly as it went through all the stages described by Kubler-Ross on death and dying. I mean how do you comfort an electronic device? I had tried my best to break this news gently. It wept, it begged, then it became belligerent " I'll never go back ALIVE" it exclaimed. That is when the whole ordeal just got worse...

I guess the thought of waking up and being reconditioned for some other customer was just too unbearable for my little cell phone to deal with. Here it was as I caught it just before it was able to drown itself in the bathroom sink. Honestly, I've never seen a cell phone do a cannonball dive before. I'd have to give it a 6.9... and that's pretty good for a cell phone.

I could hardly get the breakfast dishes washed before I turned around and found my cell phone trying to stick it's head in the oven. Of course being a cell phone, it didn't realize gas really wouldn't effect it much since it didn't really need oxygen. I guess it had been reading too much Sylvia Plath behind my back.

My cell phone has lived with Genie for almost 10 months, and has heard her say about a billion times "I'd rather drink bleach than____________" (Fill in the blank). I for one have certainly learned today that cell phones, like children, are rather impressionable, and to be careful what you say in front of them.

I thought taking my old cell phone on a ride to do a few errands would improve it's mood a bit. Imagine my shock when it threw itself in front of the wheel of my van screeching "Do it...DO IT" at the top of it's voice in a crowded parking lot. And to all those helpful bystanders chanting along with the phone while I was trying to talk it out of doing this...ummm...Thanks for your help. Really.

Poor cell phone. When I finally talked it out of death by tire crunch, it decided if all else failed it would just order junk food from Whattaburger and clog it's arteries. I should have known letting it watch the documentary "Supersize Me " six times put bad ideas in it's little memory. It sustained a wicked belly ache and indigestion, but this didn't do the immediate trick it had hoped.

I barely caught the depressed cell phone as it tried to fling itself off the window ledge when we returned home. After this last attempt, I had no choice but to remove it's frazzled battery pack. There is no cell phone Valium, and enough is enough. Who would have ever thought my cell phone would end up being such a drama queen?

P.S. Thanks Genie for your considerable talent in photoshop. :)