Yesterday morning, I met a friend for breakfast at my favorite breakfast place: Panera. This friend and I have been trying to get together for weeks, but sick children and crazy schedules kept getting in the way and forcing us to cancel plans at the last minute.

Today, we were determined to enjoy some good conversation over yummy bagels.

Naturally, L. (2) came along as my sidekick, and while he is a big fan of French Toast Bagels, he is not a big fan of sitting still for more than 10 minutes at a time.

True to form, he pleasantly munched his breakfast while my friend and I talked, but as soon as his belly was full, he became squirmy and made it very clear that it was time to GO.

My friend and I, however, were not ready to go. A mere 13 minutes of conversation hadn’t allowed us to even scratch the surface of all we had to catch up on. And so, I did what any other desperate mother would do. I reached into my purse for my top-secret weapon.

I pulled out my iPod, fired up an episode of Super Why, and handed it over to L..

Yes, it’s true. Not only do I allow my toddler to watch too much TV at home; the wonder of technology now enables me to allow him to watch too much TV all over town.

For a mere $1.99, I can download an episode of one of his favorite shows, knowing that I’ll get a guaranteed 23 more minutes of time at the location of my choice. And yes, I spent another half-hour or so at Panera yesterday, savoring the conversation, so glad to have that time with my friend. Definitely worth the $1.99 and the lowered parenting grade I surely earned.

The first time I discovered the magic that an iPod with video capabilities could work on my toddler was back in May, when I took L. to the pediatrician for his 2-year well visit.

We settled into the waiting room and since we were the first people there that morning, I was thinking about allowing him to play with the germ-laden provided toys. Just then, a mom and son walked into the room and marched up to the window.

“Yes, I need a strep test for my son,” she announced. Then, to her son: “Just go play with those toys while we wait, honey.”

Okay then. No toys for L.. We hadn’t exactly come to the doctor’s office looking for strep throat.

That day, the iPod convinced L. to sit on my lap and watch a few free Blue’s Clues video podcasts that I’d downloaded earlier. He was a happy camper.

But when we went in to the exam room, he was not ready to give up the miniature entertainment device, and so was still listening to Joe sing the Toothbrush Tango when the doctor walked in.

Dr. S. did a brief double take, and then pronounced: “Well, it appears that Mr. L. is truly a child of the 21st Century.”

Yes, and I suppose I’m a mom of the 21st century. I’ll save the iPod for emergencies. After all, even secret toddler-entertaining weapons lose their effectiveness if they’re used too often. But it’s nice to know I have it as an option for occasional eating-out emergencies.