By BECKY ANDREWS, Wilson Living Magazine
I stood my ground. One day he tried to wear me down by asking over and over “if not now, when can I get my own phone?” By the end of the day, I had enough. So I gave him an answer. “You can get your first cell phone when I got mine… when you’re 22!”
While my husband supported the decision, he thought maybe 22-years-old was too long to wait. A compromise was reached and we told our blue eyed little boy he would get his phone at 13.
Not long after I went to eat lunch with my 7-year-old. A little boy at his table told me his big brother has a cell phone. His “big” brother is in third grade. I looked at Jackson and said, “Do not tell your brother.
I don’t have the energy for battle today.” He looked at me and agreed. That’s the day I realized my youngest child would not be someone to trust with military secrets or my correct weight. In short, that little pisher sings like a canary if he hears the words, “Don’t tell.”
Before they could buckle their seatbelts, Jackson shouted, “I know a third grader who has a cell phone and you don’t!” Before I could reprimand him for squealing he stuck his finger up and said, “I promise not to tell him you told me not to tell him.” And with that my youngest sealed his fate as being the only senior in high school without a cell phone.