Phones, water and vomit
We have two phones in our house. (Two home phones, that is; I’m not counting mobile phones.) They are
driving me nuts teaching me patience. They came as a set, with a main base that has an answering machine, and a separate smaller base with a charger. We’ve had the phones for about four years, but they’ve been dying for about two. They simply won’t hold a charge, and die almost spontaneously. They give one little “beep” sometimes, then die. If you can hit the “transfer” button before the phone dies, you can pick up the other handset and continue the conversation. We’re rarely that quick, though. Usually, you’ll be having a conversation with me, and hear, “Oh, shoot!” followed by some loud static. On my end, I can’t hear the static, but the odd and troublesome thing is that the dead phone then ties up the line, and no one can make calls out (on either handset) or in for a good 15 minutes. This is less of a problem now that I have a mobile phone, but I keep forgetting that I have it; I only got it in April, and I’m more accustomed to life without it.
We’ve replaced the handset batteries, but it didn’t help.
A few weeks ago, I dropped one of the handsets in a sink full of water. I was rather hoping that the phone would die completely, which would justify the expense of new phones, but it didn’t die; it just now has perpetual static.
This morning, I hear a happy, “Splash! Splash! Splash!” and I look over, and 16mo Audrey has one of the handsets, and is joyfully dunking it into the dog’s water bowl. Several things went through my mind at once, “Oh, I’m glad I saw that Mythbusters that proved you can’t get electrocuted from a cordless handset! Oh, maybe the phone will really die now, and I can get some nice, new phones! Oh, shoot, I should really get the phone away from her.” I take the handset, shake it a bit and lay it out on some dry cleaning rags to drain. Again, I hear a happy, “Splash! Splash! Splash!” as I’m taking care of the soggy phone. I look over, and Audrey is splashing with her hands, now, in the dog’s water dish, sucking on them after each dunk.
Ah, ha! That might solve a little mystery.
I was up last night with my little girl, who kept crying, “Ow-weee! Mah-meeee!” Cough, cough, puke. This started around 8 p.m., and didn’t end until 1:30. She never had the gut-wrenching vomiting action, but as any mother knows, even a little bit of puke is far too much. I comforted. I consoled. I nursed. I changed sheets. I changed blankets. I changed jammies — hers and mine. I tried to put her in bed. Ten minutes later, I’d be back. It was a long five and a half hours.
The whole time, I was thinking, “Where did she get this from?” We are short one vehicle, and haven’t been out much. Audrey, other than daily trips to the mailbox with Daddy, has literally not left the house since church on Sunday. Ethan and Grant have spent time at friends’ houses, so they could have carried something home… but I didn’t think that was likely, because no one else has been sick.
Then, the “Splash! Splash! Splash!” followed by the hand in the mouth, and the moment of (possible) revelation. It is an daily effort to a) allow our dog easy access to her water, especially as this is summertime in the desert, yet b) not allow Audrey to get into it.
Maybe the throw-up sessions came from muck in Tally’s water.
Or, maybe I’m just super-tired from less than 5 hours sleep.
I’m just glad that she’s no longer vomiting, and hopeful that I can get the thumbs-up from Martin to add “telephones” to the Costco list.