Yellow Smiley Face

I picked up my husband's mobile phone and scanned through his text messages.  I just learned how to do that recently.  Everyone around me has an inbred mentality about this stuff, except me.  Where was I when all this technology trampled on my old school smarts.

I read messages such as "love you, drive safely" or "miss you lots", and yellow circles that smile.  There are heart shapes and more yellow circles, love you, miss you, xxx.  They weren't from a secret lover.  No. They're from our son.  To his dad.

Brandon doesn't text me that sort of stuff.  I have a home phone, a land line only, which is as useless as teats and spring lamb to slaughter.   Both my kids communicate with their thumbs on tiny keyboards.  I use to get car rides home from teen skate using my thumbs.

If my kids had to choose who to live with, they would pick their dad. I probably would, too.

They have long forgotten me.  The one who brought them to work, let them use my computer to play games. Let them drink hot chocolate, make hot chocolate.  Bought them train sets just because.  Came back to get them from daycare because they banged fists over and over again on the window, crying for mommy.  I came back.

But if I couldn't go back, I called at least 10 times a day.  I still call at least 10 times a day, every single day, which is probably why they hate me so much.  Dad text messages instead.

And he also bought all the useless crap.  The memorable stuff.

Yellow smiley face.  Yellow smiley face.  Yellow smiley face.