I thought I was prepared for the big moments of aging. Losing teeth? Bring on the tooth fairy! Reading chapter books? All hail Beverly Cleary and Judy Blume!
But it has happened. The moment I forgot was coming has arrived and hit me right in the guts.
The 7-year-old has discovered the telephone.
But there’s talking to adults. And then there’s locking yourself in your playroom so you can talk to another kid with a little PRIVACY.
It has happened. My kid needs privacy to talk to her friends on the phone about important matters such as Webkinz (if you aren’t familiar, be thankful … it’s an online game for kids that will make your eyes glaze over) and when to have the next sleepover.
At least, that’s what I think they’re talking about. When you ask a 7-year-old what they talk about with their friends, you’re likely to get such enlightening answers as, “I forget” and “stuff.”
Thirteen is coming. I can almost hear it slamming the bedroom door from here.
To retain my sanity, I try to remind myself that this is adorable. Just last week she managed to have a “playdate” with cousins who live four hours away via the phone and the aforementioned website. I was allowed to be in the room for that one, and I wish I’d thought to record the sound of those little voices. It was the sort of thing that makes you all mushy and gushy inside.
And only a curmudgeon would listen to the messages on the answering machine and not smile wide. Little voices nervous and giggly, barely getting out their names before hanging up. They’re braver than I was in my day – because, yes, I’m now officially old enough to have had “my day, I have a 7-year-old with phone privileges. I wasn’t one for leaving actual messages; that is if friends had actual machines (am I dating myself enough for you?).
So there you have it. Time has marched on for me, and it’s marching onward for her too.
Thank goodness it’s done so for the phone company too – unlimited calling is going to be our new best friend for years to come.
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Image via zigazou76/Flickr