Text Me

I remember it like it was yesterday.  My friend got the first video game I’d ever seen.  It was the most amazing thing—bouncing back and forth there on the console TV on their family room floor.  We sat cross legged on the shag carpet staring at that black and white screen scooting little paddles up and down for hours playing Pong. 

A couple of months ago I had one of those tire-screeching moments when all my world went crashing back into that 1970s family room.

“Mom, can I get pong?” my 9 year old was asking me!

I laughed out loud at the thought. Among all his other requests how could Pong be among them?  I am certain my house is no different than millions of others where the I-pod technology is threatening to take over the world.  Daily conversations include things like, “Mom, can we buy, Tiny Wings? Nate has Robot Unicorn.  Jelly Car 3 is out!”

My husband says they will never be able to drive since they never see the road when we’re in the car.

Among the angry birds, zombies, pocket frogs, rats on scooters, stunt bikers and burgers in the sky, I never thought there would be Pong! But, sure enough, there on Jake’s tiny screen, just as I remembered it, was Pong’s familiar black and white bouncing ball.  Wow was it boring!

And right there in front of me was another living testament as to how much my life is different than my son’s. 

The one phone we had in the house back then was connected by a cord to the kitchen wall where privacy was nonexistent. Today, my 9 year old has discovered that there is a free app allowing him to have texting alongside all his games on that tiny little device.

With that, a brand new door opened in our lives.  Ushering in the free flowing conversation, uninhibited by prying ears or actual speech that jumps instantly from mind to tapping fingers and arrives with a cheerful programmed cymbal crash announcing the newest message awaits.  Many parents before me have already endured this constant connection with friends, but that doesn’t make it feel any better for me. 

And so, new laws of the land have been laid down.  Privacy rules similar to my hard-wired kitchen phone are now in place.  All texting parties now know that conversations can be monitored without notice, respect is required, and there is accountability for the things you are typing. Punishment will be severe.

With all the threats fresh in my mind I scroll through a recent texting conversation, half expecting to find violations.  Instead what I did find was something so sweet, so sentimental, and so powerful I once again was stopped in my tracks at the differences between my life and my son’s.

“I just found out my mom has breast cancer” the text to my son says. 

“that is awful I feel so bad 4 u” says my son

“I can’t stop crying.”

“I feel like crying 2”

“ wat if she dies”

“She wont die u hav 2 b confident” replies my son.

And later, “I will wear my breast cancer bracelet 4 u” he says.

“thnx” is the reply then, “im not crying anymore”

And so, I get it.  These kids have many privileges, many games, many connections, and many opportunities. And while I am sometimes frozen with fear of it all, sometimes it’s good.  They are good. The life they live is much more complicated and more sophisticated than anything I could have imagined and it will take a lot more than Pong to prepare them for it.