I am now officially ashamed to pull my cell phone out in public. It's been submerged in a bathtub, a baby pool, and the washing machine. It's been chewed on, slobbered on, and run over by a power wheel. It is now a sorry shell of it's former shiny self, who, thanks to grimly little monster fingers, only stays on speaker mode, and is being held together by masking tape after a tune up gone awry...never trust your phone to a 2 foot "phone expert" who speaks toddler gibberish, has Cheetos all over his face and wears pampers.
And, any wireless companies reading this, looking for someone to sponsor, I am your girl! I can put your so called "toughest" phone through all the paces. If it survives a month with me, I'll tattoo your brand on my forehead***.***Ok, I won't really tattoo it on my forehead, but I will tell all my mom friends about it, and maybe wear a sticker of some sort, but a tattoo is out of the question...for now...unless you get me drunk in Panama City or something, because then, who knows!
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