Get ready for some shocking news . . . my five-year-old now has her very own cell phone.
Sure, it isn't activated (or even charged) but it resides in her purse and her purse now goes everywhere. We were at the dinner table last Tuesday when she stops conversation to say, "Oh, just a minute. I'm getting a call." She dug out the phone, flipped it open, said, "I'm in the middle of something, I'll have to take a message." and then continued on with her meal.
I warned her that phone calls at the table mean being grounded.
On Thursday, I called home to see why Dixie wasn't at the chiropractor. Dixie answers the phone and starts chattering about her day. I have to interrupt to ask to speak to Daddy. She says, "Mom, I'll have to take a message and let him get back to you. I'm not sure where he is."
Wha . . . ? You're five. How far away can Daddy be? I insist that she find him and hear the sounds of her going around inside the house and then the slamming door and wind as she goes outside. After one more, "Are you sure I can't just take a message?" she says, "Okay, here's daddy! I'm going to put him on now."
Thanks, personal secretary. When did she get so fond of taking messages? And how, exactly, is she going to write this message down? She's lacking a bit on the shorthand skills.
Later, I talk to her grandma, who has a phone story of her own. While talking to her granddaughter, she was hearing funny background noises, so she asked Dixie what she was doing. "Oh, I'm riding my bike." Wait! Don't you need two hands to do that? No worries, Grandma. Dixie reassures her that, "I have the phone in my basket. I put you on speaker."
(My mother can't figure out what button to push for call waiting, but my kid can put grandma on speaker.)
Grandma says, "But don't you need to pay attention to where you're going?"
"Nah, that's what Daddy's for."