Kids With Cellphones Scare the Crap Out of Me

My family was one of the first to own a computer. We only owned one because my dad is a gadget freak, not because my parents are cutting edge -- my mother STILL doesn't understand how call waiting works.

But I'd sit there in my footie pajamas while my dad inserted these gigantic floppy discs into the large machine so that I could do things like "learn to tell time" by reading a gigantic green clock. Not quite on the level of Angry Birds, but I digress.

My son is 11 and a half (the half being of utmost importance), and he's asking for a cellphone, which freaks me out. I didn't have one until I was 21, and even then, the thing took up half my purse.

Ah, how the times have changed!


I'm trying my best to be a hip mom and all, but I can't see any good coming from allowing my kid to have a cellphone. I mean, he can't remember to put on socks -- how would he even remember to charge the thing? (This from the person who hasn't charged her phone in three days.)

And then there are the apps. I've been okay with the apps for my phone directed at my small kids -- they're fairly educational, and obnoxious blinky ads aside, I'm pretty comfortable letting them play on my phone. Especially since they use the phone to watch Netflix even though the television is MUCH bigger than the pack of smokes sized iPhone I use whenever I remember to charge it.

But there's an app for Facebook. One for Twitter. One for Tumblr. What if my kid decides it's time to open up a Facebook profile and write crap about me on his wall? Or tweet things about how I "rarely wear pants" and "how gross it is"?

To say I'm scared about the teen years is probably the biggest understatement of the century. (I was going to type "year," but since it's been 2013 for approximately six minutes, it seemed more appropriate to use "century.") I'm used to the mood swings and puberty stuffs -- I may not love it, but I can handle it.

But having a phone is like the gateway drug to teen-dom, which I am SO not ready for. Pretty soon, he's going to be asking about starting his own blog at which point, I may as well run and hide -- what if he finds MY blog?


Panic attacks notwithstanding, what am I supposed to do with a teenager? Take him to a Jonas Brothers concert? Glee reunion tours? American Idol tryouts? I don't know! I can't even tell you for sure if those exist anymore! I haven't watched American Idol since Mormon-Face won, so for all I know, it could be canceled!

*breathes deeply*

I can do this. I can survive the teen years. It's not like a monster is going to move in and take over my son's brain, right?

I can survive the teen years, right? I should just stock up on more vodka, right? I mean, heh-heh, I was an "angel" during the teen years -- my kid's gonna be even more angelic, right?



Pass the vodka.


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