September 4, 2012
Right now, his phone is scratch-free. There's not even a fingerprint on it. So to watch him wriggle it out of its packaging and slip it into his jean pocket sans protection is--not to be too dramatic--horrifying. The pristine glass screen is completely vulnerable to the world's elements and the thought of his denim lint and spare change rubbing up on it makes me wanna snatch it up and donate it to a responsible fifth grader.
It also makes me wonder if I can trust him to take care of other valuable objects. Is capable of caring for a pet? Or watering a plant? Or hell, raising a freakin' baby? Right now, I wouldn't even trust him with borrowing my High Fidelity DVD and that thing is over seven years-old and already scratched.
He doesn't need to wrap it in bubble wrap and nestle it inside a shoebox filled with goose feathers, but a little precaution would put me at ease.