Tuesday, July 13, 2004


I'm not a big phone person. I didn't even go through much of a telephone phase as a teenager, although that may have had more to do with not having any friends than anything else, since for the large part of our dating time while Justin and I lived 700-or-so miles apart, I could have spent hours on the phone (although due to the financial situation of a grad student and a college student, we pretty much limited our calls to once per week). So now, I might call and bug Justin a few times per day, but otherwise the phone isn't constantly in use. We don't even own a cell phone.

I suppose I'm the phone enough though that both my kids have gone through a pahse as toddlers where they want one constantly attached to their ears. When a toy phone or real phone isn't around, they make do with remote controls, any other toy or their hands when necessary. I love to hear their conversations too. The girl walks around saying, "Hello. Ummm. No thanks. Love you! Bye-bye." I suppose that actually sounds like what I say, because she sure does good impression of my inflections. The boy has outgrown that stage now. Now when presented with the phone for conversations with grandparents or his dad, he either monopolizes the phone conversation with monologs about his life and every thought that pops into his head, or he grabs the phone and yells, "I love you! Bye!" and throws the telephone back at me. At least it is less disconcerting than hearing my telephone self copied.

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