Kindle Backfire

Last Saturday night, I was basking in my parental successes.  I had (in my mind) singlehandedly turned the corner on Luca’s potty training with the introduction of Kindle playing on the toilet.  Letting him mess around on my tablet directly resulted in his first ever poop on the potty.  And there were clear signs that my days of spending a billion dollars a month on diapers were coming to a close.

Before retiring for the night, I took one last obsessive look at my email.  I mean, there could be an advertising emergency.  Someone may need an “a” changed to a “the.”

I was surprised to see I had 10 unread messages waiting for me.  Huh.  I looked at the subject lines and they were all identical.  “Your Amazon.com purchase is ready to be shipped.”  Ten times. 

My immediate reaction was, “Dianaaaaaaaaa!” But then I realized the purchase was a Lego Headless Horseman.  Ten little plastic Headless Horsemen were on their way to my house.  No.  The Headless Horsemen army was headed to my Dad’s house.

I looked at the Kindle resting so very innocently next to my phone.  I turned it on and clicked on the Amazon.com app in the electronic carrousel.  Sure enough, when I hit the button, I saw just how easy it was for a tiny poopy hand to order Lego after Lego. 

Luca’s poopy hand.

I spent the next hour canceling orders and emailing my Dad to alert him to the strange packages that may or may not be heading to my house.

The next evening while he was on the potty, I tried to explain which button on the Kindle Luca was never to touch.  This button.  Right here.  The shiny one with all the incredibly cool Lego toys.  And the one touch ordering.

Dad, expect more Legos soon.