Thursday, September 24, 2009

lol :)

As my daughters ate breakfast this morning, I casually suggested that this evening we go to Taco Del Mar, since Terri will be working late (things tend to get a little lazy in the kitchen when one of the adults is absent). Zoe quickly chimed in. "Can (her best friend) Maddy come with us?"
"I guess that would be okay."
And that's when modern technology took hold. No sooner had I delivered them each a glass of milk, than Zoe shot off a text message to Maddy, and Maddy in turn replied with a resounding, "luv 2 go."
This whole text message phenomenon has become insane. These kids have thumbs of unfathomable strength and speed. Thumb wrestling with Zoe used to be fun, but now I'm afraid she might snap my thumb off without realizing it. Also, it's not just texting for which they use their opposable appendages; it's also calculators, remotes...I wouldn't be surprised if they perform thumbs-only shampooing and conditioning.
And what an egregious error I committed the day I suggested to Zoe that she "call" her friend to set up a time to meet at the fair.
"Dad, why would I call Sharon when I can text her (you freakin' idiot)?"
"Because then you can work the whole thing out much faster, and actually talk to a real, live person."
"Whatever."
A little later, she mentioned that a couple of her friends who are dating sit next to each other on the school bus every morning and text each other. No kidding.
Oh, sure, there are definitely instances when texting is the preferred method of communication, such as on crowded mass transit or any circumstance in which the situation could prove to be humiliating.
What I wouldn't have given to possess text message technology that winter day in 1978. I was standing in my parents living room, chatting on our only phone with my new girlfriend of about two weeks. My mom and dad sat about four feet away, pretending to watch TV in their twin recliners. The phone conversation from my end went something like this:
"What? Why? But we just started...please? Are you sure you want to break up? Come on. Okay. Bye."
I hung up the phone and stormed past my parents on the way upstairs to my room.
"Oh, honey, it's okay. She doesn't deserve you." I did appreciate my mom's attempts at consoling me, but right now I was incredibly sad and embarrassed.
A simple text of "i'm thru w/u" would have made the situation slightly more bearable and I wouldn't have had to share it with the rest of the house.
I'm still thinking of instituting a new rule with the kids regarding text messages: you can do it as long as I get to proofread every message for proper spelling and punctuation. That should be sufficient incentive to for them to pick up the phone and brush up on their conversational skills.

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