I have a lot riding on this post. Specifically two beef tacos, a side order of guacamole and some nachos (vegetarian, hold the jalapenos).
Let me explain. The other night my husband Brad and I got into an argument. This is not unusual but what is unusual is that it wasn’t on our favoured arguing topic (that nobody wins topic of “I am more tired than you”). Nope, last night we got into a fight about my iPhone. About how Brad thinks I am the only person in the world who has, oh I don’t know, say 1233 photos on their phone. He thinks normal people don’t keep 1233 photo on their phone. He thinks normal people download their photos onto their iSomething and free up THE SPACE ON THEIR PHONES.
Just as an FYI, you should know that this post is sponsored by Harvey Norman. But all opinions expressed by the author are 100% authentic and written in their own words.
I say he’s wrong. And before you can say “Ay caramba” we made a bet. Oh yes we did. No really WE DID. If I can find 20 people who have over 1000 photos on their phone, he has to put on the apron, go into the kitchen and whip up a Mexican feast faster than you can say Dora Dora Dora The Explorer. And if I can’t, vice versa.
And I’m going to win, right? Because I cannot possibly be the only person out there who snaps photos of their children like some kind of deranged paparazzo (wearing, er, maternity jeans and a t-shirt covered in baby spew).
Dear God please tell me I am NOT the only person out there who has an insane number of photos of their kids on their phone.
The thing is I just can’t stop taking photos of my beautiful, hilarious, funny, creative (are your eyes glazing over?) kids and once I have them on my phone, I’m struggling to let them go. My daughter Ava is five now, she’s at Prep but I’ve still got that first photo of her in my arms in hospital. And my favourite photo of Brad holding her for the first time; his eyes full of love as he gazes at down at his new daughter while she screams her head off in an ugly pink knitted hat. I have visits to Adelaide Zoo when she was really scared of the baby chicks and we eventually had her feeding them seeds out of her hand, the day we watched the royal wedding of William and Kate together both wearing tiaras, her first day of kindy, her last day of kindy. The start of Prep (sob!). Amongst all that there was the arrival of Fin, his first smile, first tooth, first attempt at eating solids, first time on a plane. The day I found him in the pantry eating Jatz and er Nutella and, okay, some Tiny Teddy biscuits (note to self: move food to higher shelf). And don’t even get me started on Quincy. He’s seven months and he treats me and my camera-phone with the same disdain Suri Cruise has for the press.