I hate to say it, but I think I have a thing for dropping cameras. Not yours, mine - I've never dropped anyone else's, but my own takes a tumble pretty often.
Fortunately it's not an expensive one...just your regular click and shoot deal. Maybe if I had a bigger one I'd be less clumsy with it. You know, there'd be more of it to hold onto, or something.
Something. Yep. Mm hmm.
By the end of our first trip in Spaghettia, our other camera (long since replaced) was being held together by bandaids. I wish I had a picture to show you, but, well, it's hard to take a picture of your camera with your camera. Especially when it's falling apart.
But here, my friends, is a piece of advice. Ready?
If you do have a reputation for dropping your camera, and it goes thudding to the floor for the bazillionth time, here is what you should not do.
You should not, under any circumstances, tell your husband (who is innocently playing Legos with the boys across the room and who probably heard the thud), "Umm...that was the camera."
Know why? Because he will say, "I don't want to know that."
But if you do accidentally confess, and he says what he says afterwards (because he will), there is something you can still say to save yourself. Forewarned is forearmed.
Just quickly say...
"Oh - I meant, that was your cell phone."
And he will say, "Oh, okay," and heave a big sigh of relief.
**This has been a public service announcement from Baruch's Lullaby. No cell phones, cameras, or marriages were harmed in the making of this announcement. At least, I think...I need to go check on the camera again.