I work late on Monday nights at a local christian book store. (At least I will until Dancing with the Stars starts on the 17th. Isn't that an interesting commentary on my life. I schedule my work around a pseudo-dance competition. We won't even mention my habit of eating some high calorie snack while watching, all the while hoping that my body looks that good at 50. Irony, anyone?)
Anyway, back to the subject at hand. Presuming there is a subject. I normally get home around 9:45 in the evening and it's always exciting for me to see what interesting developments crop up in my absence. Last nights development was the cell phone bill. And my son. (and taxes. But we aren't talking about that.)
As I looked through the bill to make sure we weren't running out of minutes or texting ourselves into the poor house (we don't text at our house but somehow we always seem to be charged for some texting. I wonder how that happens?), I noticed The Boy's cell phone usage. (I should be using all caps for this child's name at this point.) Would anyone care to guess how many minutes this precious child of mine used this past month? Anyone? Let's try....6,000 minutes. When asked about said usage, his comment was, "but they were shared minutes so they didn't cost anything." Sigh. Since said excessive phone usage is accompanied by a slight slipping of his grades, we are currently reassessing The Boy's "free time." (Have I mentioned how many times I have seen him using the cell phone and the house phone along with the computer? This boy can multi-task but I'm not sure this is a bankable skill.)
All in all, the discussion went well, partly due to the fact that his mama was totally doped up on cold pills and decided to deliver her lecture in the cadence of a revival preacher. Daddy sat at the table doing hand motions and generally having a chuckle over the ridiculousness of the whole thing. Which, come to think of it, may not have imparted the seriousness of the message I was trying to get across. Only time will tell.