Our friend Bev came over for dinner last week. While we were sipping Sauvignon Blanc and chatting in the kitchen, Robinson was playing quietly in the living room a few feet away. He was being really fussy, but once I gave him my phone to play with, he was happy.
A few minutes later, Steve is bringing in the salmon off the grill. Robinson, who is still sitting on a blanket in the floor with my phone, begins screaming and crying at maximum volume. I look over to see my son, whose face has turned purple with fury, hysterically throw my phone down on the floor with all his might. It was as if the phone had transformed into a killer bee and stung him. Tears are streaming down his face.
"What in the hell is going on?!" said Steve, Bev, and me, collectively.
I run across the room and pick up the phone*, because I hear sound coming from it. This is what is playing on my phone (Rob begins freaking out around the :38 second mark):
So, it turns out that Robinson used his chubby little paws to add the Video Player app to the home screen of my phone. He then opened the Video Player and chose "Snooki Comes to South Park" from a list of videos on the main screen. It also turns out that Snooki offends Robinson's delicate sensibilities. Like mother, like son.
*Only as I'm proofreading this post for the third time do I realize that when my child was screaming in panic, I ran across the room and picked up the phone. Then I picked up the child. Submit this post with my Mother of the Year nomination.