A GIRL AND HER PHONE - A LOVE STORY

A few months ago, a certain teenage girl in our household began having trouble with her cell phone.

Again.

It probably had something to do with the fact that said cell phone had been dropped from the bleachers at a wrestling meet. And not onto a wrestling mat as one would hope but onto the hard wood floors from about 20 rows up.

So then.

Her father and I told her that until we decided when and if her phone would be replaced she would have to.....gasp....use the land line.

This caused much confusion and distress......

That squiggly cord thing....the mere massiveness of it....the fact that it could not be carried in her pocket.

Yes we are indeed cruel parents.

Of course we parents decided that the phone would be replaced but not by a new one. Then came the difficult decision as to which parent would enter the cell phone store and take care of this. We thought of doing rock, paper, scissors. We considered arm wrestling.

But then I merely spoke one sentence to Kayla's father and the decision was made:

I. AM. NOT. ENTERING. THAT. CELL. PHONE. STORE. AGAIN. TO. GET. HER. ANOTHER. PHONE.

And it was said through clenched teeth. Worked like a charm.

This caused our teenager even more distress because she knew she might end up with two tin cans on a string if her dad was in charge of her replacement. So to prepare for the humiliation, we practiced with two cups and a ribbon.


Things began to fall apart when she realized one cannot text on a plastic cup.

Sweet Mercy. This girl was beyond distraught. She had no phone. She had no way to text her friends. All she had at her disposal was...gasp...the land line.

My phone! My phone! My sweet constant companion - my phone!

It was really quite pathetic.

Once her father had been to the cell phone store and realized that the phone could be replaced with a slightly used model for a mere $12 shipping charge, I decided that she and I could share my cell phone until hers arrived in the mail.

And then the clouds parted. The birds began to sing. And joy was returned to the W house.

Ah - sweet contentment.

Then came the difficult days of waiting.

Oh the torture of waiting for a cell phone to arrive in the mail.

Every day after school (for three whole days) my tortured soul of a daughter would come in and desperately ask "Did my phone come?"

And, oh, the ache in my heart when I'd have to say "No dear. It did not come today. Just be strong a little longer. YOU CAN DO IT. And remember, I am here for you during these dark days."

And then (hallelujah chorus) the phone arrived in the mail and our daughter, for a brief mindless moment turned into Tom Cruise on the Oprah show:

Up on the couch she jumped.

I'm in love and I don't care who knows it!! My phone. My phone is back!!

And then she vowed to treat her constant companion cell phone with much better care and tenderness, as it deserved.

The End.