My family is totally a product of the cellular age.
Truth be told, we use cell phones as our primary means of communication -- from one part of the house to another.
Just last night, in fact, Wonderhubby called my phone to tell me that dinner was ready (I'm suffering from post-vacation creeping crud, and, yes, he is the best).
Let me explain again: He was downstairs. I was upstairs. He called me on the phone to tell me I should come down to eat.
And I didn't find this odd at all.
I frequently text the Roo-girl down the hall.
Or instant message, if she's logged onto the computer.
Of course I am the quintessential IM'er and texter with my flown-from-the-nest boys. You've seen those long, involved conversations before.
I love technology. It's so ... so ... technical. And gadgety. And useful.
Mushy? Yes, technology can be totally heart-warming:
Evil Mother: Hello?
The Roo-girl: Will you come tuck me in?
Evil Mother: Of course!
The Roo-girl: YAY!!!!
And so it was that I sat on my baby girl's bed last night, rubbing her back, while she smiled sleepily at me and told me about her plans for the following day. I smiled back at her, hugged her tight, and we whispered "I love you" to each other.
Summoned by cell phone ... held together by love.