I got my first cell phone when I was a junior in college, and it was one of those ginormous ones that was kept inside a canvas bag on the floor of the passenger seat for emergency use only. Two years later, I got a cell phone that I could use outside of a bag. Fast forward nine years: I am the very happy, addicted owner of a purple little Blackberry. Click-click-click-click-click.
My Dad is more than happy to give Oliver his Droid to play with cuz he thinks it's cute. Michael and I will occaisonally oblige with our phones, allowing his grubby little hands to carry it around as long as it's in locked mode. But more than once, we've seen Oliver drive our Blackberrys around like HotWheels, and once Michael found his, after 24 hours of searching, in a bucket full of musical instruments.
Today my Dad, who most kindly came over to cheauffer my still-healing self to run several random errands, announced that he'd like to get Oliver his own cell phone.
Seriously, do kids really need their own cell phones? Kids barely out of kindergarten have their own calling plans, it seems, and where chewing gum used to be a no-no in my elementary school, now teachers are confiscating phones. I do declare that it's a matter of months before the Etch-A-Sketch becomes obsolete as it's replaced by 5-year-olds doodling on I-Pads.
"You know, like a toy phone," my Dad goes on to say. "One of our errands is to Toys R Us or something, right?" Oh, all right.
Ollie's new phone from Grandpa Dave kept him busy for the greater part of an hour this evening.
I just may be changing my attitude about age limits and phones. At least, until we have a girl, and that girl turns 12.
Just a quick comment to tie this post to the previous one. I wanted to show mom the size of your pacemaker (saw it on the kitchen counter) and I took my cell phone battery out - my cell phone battery is bigger but a little narrower.
ReplyDeleteAmazing.
YLC