My adult son rarely answers his phone. He’ll text you, sure, or send email now and then. But when a real live conversation might take minutes, our tag texts go on for hours at times. Why don’t people answer their phones anymore?
On some level, I like texting better than phones. In public for instance, I’m much happier watching someone, whose thumbs are a blur, walk into a lamppost than I ever was listening to a woman screaming into her cell. Now I don’t have to know that “canned beets are on sale on aisle five, should I bring home an extra case?” or, “OMG!!! she said and then he said,” ad nauseam. So I’m fine with texts when I’m out and about.
It’s my own adult children whose texts fry my spam. It’s been so long since some of them have actually picked up my call that I don’t remember what their voices sound like. I’m issuing a Mom-enforced edict: I am YOUR MOTHER. You will not ignore my calls. You will answer by the third ring and you will NOT put your phone on automatic voicemail.
But I still get these lame-o texts. When I try to text back–oh that’s when the real fun begins.
These tiny key pads and I are not friends. I’ve heard new smarty-pants phones have a magic function that completes words for you, but I can’t find it on my excruciatingly outdated model. If I did manage to use it, it would probably send my kids a text that tells them I’m being held hostage by Lady GaGa who is demanding more meat for her dress. As it is, I ask my son if he’s coming for dinner and it looks like this: r u g8y6m9!@#? So far, he hasn’t texted back. That kid is SO busted.