I can't keep up with you kids and your technology.

You GUYS. Last week, I finally bit the bullet, joined the world of fancy high tech gadgets, and bought myself an iPhone. (To go with my fancy new job, of course. I can't let those young art directors show me up.)

I waited patiently for a whole week, checking the mailbox each day like he was bringing my Red Ryder secret decoder.

Finally, a Santa dressed all in brown with very manly shorts dropped off a package on my doorstep. I hid behind the door and waited until the truck pulled away, eyes gleaming.

When I opened the box, angels sang.

K was my first call; he knew I'd been patiently awaiting my new bundle of joy for days.

"Hey honey! How is your new phone?"

"It's GREAT! I LOVE IT! BUT I THINK IT'S BROKEN!"
"Why?? What's wrong?"
"I DON'T KNOW! YOU SOUND REALLY FAR AWAY!"

"Honey... did you take the plastic covering off of the speaker?" 

"WHAT?"
"The PLASTIC COVERING! YOU HAVE TO TAKE IT OFF OF THE FRONT!"
(silence)
"I'LL CALL YOU RIGHT BACK."

I don't know if I'm ready for all of this, you guys. Should people who sleep with giant carebears be allowed to have iPhones?