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Don't Ever Let Me Use a Cell Phone Again

Photograph by Markus Spiske/Flickr

I wrote a story several months ago about never wanting a cell phone. Then very recently I got a cell and immediately realized that I shouldn't own a cell phone — I don't understand how it works. Well, I know now that I shouldn't even use a cell phone (mine or anyone's).

My husband took our daughters (Claire, 16; Camille, 14; and Mimi and Tess, 9-year-old twins) to visit his grandparents in Atlanta, which gave me the weekend free to get work done back at home. They drove and arrived there Friday night. When I texted my husband Saturday morning...

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Me: Are you awake?

Him: Me and Mimi are.

Me: What time did you get in? What time did the twins get to sleep?

Him: 10:30

Me: Oh, that sucks. They really need to be asleep by 8:30, hon.

Him: Sorry.

Me: Please just make sure that they are in bed by 8 tonight, OK? Also, I'm sorry I was a bitch to you when you left.

Him: We have a big bed here. I miss you sooooo much. [out of character for my normally serious husband, I was pleasantly surprised by this emotive texting]

Me: Wow!

Him: The bed very bouncy

Me: Really? Hmmm. Tell me more.

Him: Oh and I fell asleep in the car on the way down here

Me: WHAT? Are you fucking kidding????

Him: No. I couldn't help it.

Me: Jesus! And everyone is okay?

Him: Sure. And I miss you soooo much.

Me: Me… too. I'm confused.

Him: Don't get mad, but I had gum for breakfast. I love you my mommy.

Me: Who is this?

Him: It's Tess, why?

Yes that's right, not only did I drop an F-bomb, but I was about two texts away from talking dirty to my 9 year old daughter. It gets worse. An hour later I had the better sense to call my husband on his phone, rather then text him. Here's how that conversation went.

Him: Good morning!

Me: Hi. How are you?

Him: Good. Pa and are I just on our way back from Dunkin' Donuts. We got a treat for the kids for breakfast. (Guess he didn't hear about the gum buffet.)

Me: They'll love that. Did Tess tell you what happened earlier?

Him: She just said that you thought she was me this morning. Why?

Me: Because I used some not-family-friendly words and almost got into it with her.

Him: What?

Me: I was apologizing to her, thinking it was you, about being crabby before you left and she told me that she missed me so much and that her bed was big and bouncy and I thought it was you and I think we almost had phone sex—

Him: Hi Jen! … It's Pa.

Me: God Dammit!


Me: … Am I on speaker phone?

Him: (Or rather, his grandfather) Don't worry, Jen. I'm 91, I'm not dead. I understand you miss your husband.

RELATED: 7 Reasons I Don't Own a Cell Phone

I'm like an early American pioneer woman, out on the dangerous plains of the Wild West; my cell phone is a loaded gun and I have no idea how to use it.

One thing is for sure: I am living in the wrong century.

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