A recent study compared cell phone usage between 2000 and 2006. Not just how many of us are talking, but where it is okay to talk. It's odd that we are more accepting of talking in bathrooms now, and in a car, but less so in other places.
Having our loved ones wired-in like this during so many hours of their lives, we get to share more, the nest feels a little less empty to me. Daughter #2 is still more likely to open up in an instant message, but #1 could probably have a headset surgically implanted and use it enough to justify the cost.
This makes for some fun moments, at least on my part! When she calls after work, she is usually on her way home, stopping to shop or pick up fast food. I usually have music on and am exercising. Daughter #1 is the one who inherited more of my "gotta sing along with it no matter what" gene and we have the same warped sense of good music.
There she is at the grocery store in California trying to figure out on which aisle they keep the Rotelle tomato and chile blend, and here I am in Missouri singing along with Rocky Horror Picture Show. "Ta-Ta-Ta-Ta-Touch me, I want to get dirty..."
"Don't sing that! I can't sing that here, I am in the store!"
"...Thrill me, chill me fulfill me, Creature of the Night!"
She starts to sing, "La, la, la, la, I can't hear you! I'm singing my own words, making up my own song. I'm walking down this aisle..."
We've taken enough road trips together with the stereo blasting to know what songs make us break out in harmony. That makes her way too easy a target. There's "Summer Nights" from Grease, guaranteed to make any closet karaoke singer at least hum along with. And, Rocky Horror's "Time Warp" might even get Daughter #1 dancing. Or, trying hard not to.
Is this child abuse? Can they revoke my Mom License for torturing my child this way? Or does this fall under the "Wait Til You Have Children of Your Own" clause? I'm not waiting, not taking the chance that they outsmart me by not having kids. I'll have my revenge now!
" Ta-Ta-Ta-Ta-Touch me..."
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