With the rest of America, I went online in 1994, got a cellphone in 2000, and started a blog in 2004. Most recently, once again proving my utter average Americanness (or perhaps, in this case, my utter average American momness), I started texting in 2006. In other words, I'm a tipping point kind of gal. And let me tell you: I am loving it.
I'm not simply a lemming: I tried IMing (ooh, I should put the rest of this in rhyme, except I'm not going to). I don't get IM at all. I can have a conversation almost as fast in email, and I do quite often, especially late at night, but in email I have room to see what I'm writing, and I don't have to hover at my computer waiting for the person to answer, or anxiously type away, knowing they are hovering at their computer, waiting for me to answer. In other words, IM, the few times I did it, in no way enhanced my life.
But texting? Oh yeah, baby. I received my first text at a baseball game. It said, simply but powerfully, "You suck." And I laughed, because I knew P had called me at home, S had told her where I was, and she was wicked jealous. So all summer, whenever one of us was at a game, where it is just too loud to hear someone on a cellphone, we'd send "Wish you were here" and "You suck" texts, along with updates on the score, of course.
I've texted little enough to date, that I could probably go on with explanations of all the different kinds of texts I've sent, but I won't because, you know, it would be totally boring. However, I do have to say that my absolute favorite thing about texting is that I can now reach S all evening. S works four or five nights a week, and when he is on the line (i.e. while you are out eating dinner at a restaurant, which also happens to overlap with such home front events as dinner, homework, and bedtime), I can't reach him.
I mean, if someone died or the Red Sox won the World Series, I could call him, but I am a good chef's wife and I know not to call him during service, unless someone dies or the Red Sox win the World Series. But now I can reach him when he is on the line! Some texts I have sent: "Kids are horrible. Shoot me now." "We need milk." "Your brother is coming in for dinner." Stupid, I know. Not even necessary. But when you're home alone with your kids most nights of the week and you can't even talk to your husband, it's kind of nice to be able to text.