Shattered 

Dropped my iPhone on the cement today.

Glass cracked, I was shattered. I do love that thing already.

At the genius bar at Oakbrook after work, the guy says they can replace the phone for $250.

I said it sounded like paying $10,000 to fix a car's cracked windshield. Genius didn't see the connection.

What was I going to do, even though I can't afford it?

Fine, I said. They swapped out the sim, asked for my phone number, I paid. Took about five minutes.

Walking back to my car, new phone in my pocket, I thought about Mary Baby, a favorite doll, some 47 years ago.

She had to be replaced, head fell off or something, I don't remember.

But I do recall there being a period of some weeks when I couldn't warm up to the new Mary Baby. She wasn't my Mary Baby, she smelled too new. I couldn't seem to break her in.

Driving home I worried I wouldn't feel able to accept the new phone. Could I love it as much?

Didn't turn out to be a problem. Once I got her home and hooked up to iTunes, she filled up with my stuff -- I suppose the equivilent of the smell the new Mary Baby had been missing. Everything backed up a treat. She's mine already.