I am always yelling at my son for taking my iPad. He has a desktop and a laptop computer as well as an iPhone, so there really isn't a good reason for him to ever take my iPad. My expectation is that my ipad will be on the charger, where I left it, every morning when i get up. My son, like most teenagers, feels that any items that exist within the confines of the property are fair game for his to use. Agree to disagree.
This morning I woke to find my iPad on its charger where I left it, which is where I like it. As we we were running out the door, I grabbed it and threw it in the computer case. By 7:40 am we were in the air bound for Las Vegas and all was right with the world.
The five hour flight was as boring as a twelve pack of tube socks. The time was absolutely dragging as we watched crappy movies, ate crappy snacks and attempted to nap in that awkward, sideways head position.
Somewhere over Colorado, my husband pulled up the window shade and pointed out the Rocky Mountains. They were covered in snow, with jagged peaks against a gorgeous blue sky. We grabbed our iPhones and started snapping pictures. Then I spotted the iPad in the seat pocket in front of my husband and figured I would use that to take some pictures with this because with my middle aged eyes, I can see them better on the Ipad.
I picked up the Ipad and raised it to to window. As I did so, my finger accidentally tapped the thumb nail in the corner and up came a picture. It was a distressing picture and at first I wasn't quite sure what I was looking at. I held the Ipad up in confusion as I inspected the image in front of me, all the while, displaying it to the 20 rows behind me. My husband looked over and immediately slapped the Ipad down toward the tray table, then he looked at me, looked back down at the Ipad and simply said my son's first name. If ever there was a question about whether our son ate enough fiber, it was put to rest at that moment.
I spent the rest of the flight thinking about how to retaliate. A conventional punishment would not suit this particular crime. This was an act of toilet terrorism and as such, needed a swift and creative counter-action. I thought about printing out a couple of dozen copies and mailing them to him, but why incur all that postage cost? I also considered pasting copies of it all over his room and in his bathroom, but to ruin his paint job, who suffers in the end? Then it dawned on me, the answer was as clear as the water in Lake Mead below us...
We had visited an animal rescue center before we left for vacation. Our middle aged dog seemed to be slowing down, so we wanted to get her a puppy to liven her up. We found these adorable Hound mix pups and signed up to adopt one. It would take a few days for the background check, so we could pick him up when we got back from Vegas. When we got back and went to pick him up, the vet tech warned us that she thought the pup might be a Hound and Great Dane mix. Guess who gets to be on poop patrol?
Game, set, match.