I’ll Take Unlimited Texting Please

Recently I’ve discovered the joy of texting. In a world of ever faster, it really is faster. I’m tardy to the party, what’s referred to in marketing circles as a “late adopter.” I need but another form of instant feedback like I need another little black dress. However, I can think of nothing more fun. So as my texts racked up I worried about the potential overage costs. When I logged into my wireless account I found that while I was slightly under my plan limit of 200 texts, my son was up to 820. This was three weeks into the billing cycle.

I sensed a golden opportunity. His excess was just what I needed to institute the partial pay policy I should have started when we got him the phone for Christmas. I confronted him with the facts and told him that instead of making him pay for the overage, he was going to chip in $10 a month toward his phone bill. I swear he almost cried.

“What is wrong? You don’t want to pay?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because then I’ll have less money.”

I didn’t laugh. I did however take my platinum opportunity to ask for his phone– and read his texts. If I were a terrible person I would transcribe them here. Because they would make you laugh and reminisce over everything that was good and true and hasn’t changed about the summer before 7th grade. But I won’t. Because I am a good mother and because I am deliriously grateful about what I read there, in his private conversations with friends, both boys and girls. For now, for today–though he doesn’t realize it–my baby is as innocent as the day I brought him home wrapped in flannel and smelling like spit up. If only there were an unlimited plan for that.

Parenting Dilemma #8754: Cell Phones

Just after school got out last spring I had this discussion with some other parents of soon-to-be sixth graders regarding cell phones. Because I had pretty much made up my mind that I was NOT going to get my son a phone that he clearly did NOT need, I was pretty outspoken on the ridiculousness of the whole idea. That’s just my way among friends after a margarita and I’m not apologizing for it.

“You’ll change your tune,” they said. 

“What if he misses the bus?” they questioned.

“It’s really for YOUR convenience,” they assured.

So okay, yeah, whatever. I am now in the market for a cell phone. But I still think it’s ridiculous. Sort of like the 50-something inch TV that’s starting to look small to me now. Back to phones – let’s take a little trip down memory lane, shall we?

Back in the olden days we didn’t have cell phones. We didn’t even have cordless! All phones were attached to a wire and if you thought you might need to make a call you carried a quarter in your pocket for a payphone. If you were at school, you used the office phone.

Back in the olden days if you missed the bus you didn’t call anyone. You walked home.

Back in the olden days if you wanted to have a private conversation with your friend you had to stretch out the phone cord and hope your mom didn’t detach it from the phone while you were hiding behind your closed bedroom door down the hall. Unless of course you had a phone in your room, in which case you had to know your parents were listening in from the kitchen.

And back in the olden days we didn’t have our own secret text language that our parents couldn’t figure out. We had to be clever and make plans while they weren’t listening or watching. Whatever, Dad – no, you did NOT know were were ‘sneaking’ out the sliding glass door.

We didn’t have rollover minutes and faves and unlimited texting. It’s actually a miracle our thumbs didn’t fall off – like the vestigial tail –  from lack of use.