Scotty is getting especially good with the iPad. He knows how to turn it on and off, select the program he wants, and even move the screen. There are some great kid apps out there like "Smart Baby First Words" and animal sounds. It's gotten to the point where I can hand Scotty the iPad and he'll be fairly content while I wash dishes, pick up the house, etc. This means he's not biting my legs, slapping me, or pinching me to get my attention. Thank you, Steve Jobs.
Today he was clicking around on the programs, and I noticed he was really interested in Roby the Robot. It's the kind of app similar to Talking Tom (the Cat) and Talking John (the bacteria -- ?) - the little creature repeats back whatever you say, and you can click on different buttons to make the critter do different things. I had just installed the latest Roby activities, and Scotty seemed to really dig it when the robot danced for him. He had three different dance buttons, and then a small button with a piano on it. Great, I thought, Roby plays the piano. A little Tiger Mom of me, I admit, but Scotty's definitely not too young to be interested in music and musical instruments.
Except Roby didn't play the piano. When Scotty hit the button, a piano fell out of the sky and crushed Roby. Only his little shoes remained, like the Wicked Witch.
The first time it happened, Scotty looked at me with his surprised face. Then he hit the button again. He started to cry. By the time the kid hit the button for the third time (inexplicably, I might add -- did he think Roby was going to survive this one?), the crying had turned into full-blown hysterical wails. I'm talking red face, big tears, thunderous cries, the works. Okay, Emo-baby, stop making yourelf upset. No more iPad.
And when I took the object away, he really let it all out.
It took me literally 35 minutes to calm my child. We ended up in his nursery, rocking gently, hugging his giant stuffed dog, reading some books (that ended more happily than Roby's ultimate fate.) I was finally able to coax Scotty back downstairs, but only with the promise of more Ne-Moo and some juice and muffins. The whole time I kept thinking, "Did I just traumatize my kid with an app? Seriously?"
And so while Scotty was happily placated, I set about trying to delete the stupid app (knowing full well if I didn't, Emo-baby would go right for Roby again and we'd have another 35 minute meltdown on our hands.) The only problem? I don't know how to delete apps. I'm about as computer illiterate as they come. (this blog is a work of pure luck and chance, really).
I ended up calling Brian's office - not to talk with Brian, since I knew he was in court, but to conference in one of his associates who I know is really good with Apple stuff. Uncle Jim, however, was on vacation. I think the receptionist was really curious about what was going on (and I was feeling stupider and more desperate with every minute that ticked by), so when she suggested she connect me with Brian's secretary, I readily agreed. And Carmen, bless her sweet heart, didn't know how to delete apps but offered this nugget: "Why don't you Google it?"
Oooooh. Duh. Thanks, Carmen. When my mom-brain is working overtime (i.e. consoling, calming, and placating the child), the rational brain appears to click off. Carmen even sent me a link with very complete directions, so now I'm armed and ready to destroy anymore potentially emotionally-upsetting apps in the future.
Needless to say, Roby the Robot no longer exists on our iPad.
Good riddance, dumb robot. Don't scare my child anymore.