Modern Mama

My Mom has recently taken up the modern medium of texting. Wow, that gives literal meaning to Marshall McLuhan's, "the medium is the message." Get it, "the medium is the message?" Wait did he mean that litterally?

She even knows how to picture text.

"The exhibit is awesome."

She likes to text and tell me how the play was, "Play was soooooooooooooo good."

She keeps me informed of our schedule, "Be at church Sept 28 11:15 for first communion meeting. MOM."

She keeps me abreast of her whereabouts, "I'm on the bus to S.F. Will be back tonight."

"Me and my friend were texting back and forth during my bus ride to the museum!" She exclaims. "It was so fun."

"Mom how many text messages have you sent? " I ask knowing it was at least a two hour bus ride.

"Oh, I don't know lots, I guess," she says.

"I think we better get you on a text plan," I say in a concerned daughter voice.

"What do you mean?" she asks confused.

"When you don't have a text plan you have to pay for each text individually, both when you send and receive a text," I answer.

"You mean I have to pay for those?" she asks in astonishment.

"Yes," I say.

"How much?" she asks.

"They usually range from .10 to .25 cents each," I say dialing #data. I discover she has sent and received a total of 38 text messages.

"Well, I am not doing that anymore," she says disgusted.

However, by the next day she was wildly texting me, her friend and Stefan. She was addicted to texting just like a driving, gum chewing, one-hand texting teenager. Pretty soon we won't even be able to call her on the phone.

She'll be just like those twenty-somethings who sound surprised when they answer their phone, that is if they answer the phone. "Oh my gosh, this thing is ringing! What's wrong with this texting machine?" Bang, Bang, Bang.

"Mom, I am going to have to put you on a plan," I say in my "who's the parent?" voice, which I will regret using the day my grown up boys use it on me, and not a day sooner.

I punched 6-1-1 on my phone and got her on a texting plan. Afterwards, I promptly sent her a text that read, "Mom can u plz bbsit 2morrow @12 plz plz plz plztnx .

Phone ringing, "Ain't no rhyme or reason, no complicated meaning, ain't no need to over think it, let go laughing......."

"Hey Mom," I say.

"I just got your text," she says. "What were you trying to say?"