Poor Amelia. Our middle girl, surrounded by an older sister, a younger brother and a younger sister, celebrated her 12th birthday last night with family and a KU victory over the University of Texas in Arlington.
All she has wanted all year long was a cell phone. A request we came to terms with earlier this year, knowing that is just the way kids communicate now. No long phone conversations like those of the 80's. No more giggling under the pillow, hoping Mom won't hear them up past bedtime. And certainly no long exchanges... short words, abbreviations, and acronyms have taken over what should be a blossoming vocabulary.
So we dug out an old desk phone, dusted it off and wrapped it up for her - cords and all - to open on her birthday, the idea being that she was receiving a phone my husband would take her out the next day to select.
But Amelia didn't catch on right away and instead spent 10 or 12 long minutes sincerely believing her parents' only gift to her was a dirty old desk phone, since we do not really love her.
Fortunately she knows better now. And I have the texts to prove it.