My wife took me out for a belated birthday dinner this evening. At the end of the meal I had a large piece of chocolate cake for dessert. She wanted to get a picture of the cake before I started eating it. Normally, she’d have her camera and she’d have taken a photo, but this time she’d left the camera at home.
“I’ll just take a photo with your phone.” She says this with all the confidence a former professional photographer can muster.
Knowing how this is likely to go, I reluctantly turn over my phone to her, with the camera ready to go.
She holds it up, jams her finger on the screen a few times, then looks at me. “Did it take?”
“I don’t know. Let me see the phone.” She hands it back to me. I check the photo gallery. No photo.
“Looks like it didn’t take. Try again.” I hand the phone back to her. Again she points it at me. She’s moving her finger around.
“Just tap the white circle.”
“I am.” She looks at me again. “Did it take?”
I check the phone again. “Nope.”
Another attempt. “I don’t know if it did anything.”
“Hand it over and let me see.”
I check the gallery again. This time there’s a short four second video of me saying “Don’t stab it.”
“Still no photo.” I switch the camera out of video mode and back to photo, then hand it back to my wife.
She fumbles around with the phone yet again. I reach over to check it. There’s a blurry photo of me reaching for the phone.
“Still not quite right. One more try?”
She takes the phone back and points it at me.
“Just tap the white circle. Don’t press or swipe or anything.”
“That’s what I’m doing.” She jabs her finger at the screen three times.
When I get the phone back and check the gallery, ther are three pictures with me and the cake.
“Got it,” I say. “Good job.”
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