There was a time where hearing a voice without video to go with it absolutely terrified Noah. He would scream and run and have nothing to do with a non-FaceTiming telephone, whether on speakerphone or not. It was the stuff of demons.
Then, I got a corded phone.
Yes, we still have a landline. No, I’m not sure why. But at any rate, I got a new system with a corded phone because I never could manage to keep a cordless phone charged, regardless of how little I used it or how many handsets I had.
Noah found this new phone unbelievably exciting.
Yes. He loves it so much he kicks his leg up like a tween girl talking to her crush.
(Yes, he’s potty-trained. That photo must’ve been right after bed. Because who can resist getting up and jumping on the phone?)
Because of the enchanting cord, he began regularly making phone calls and is quite good at holding up a steady chat.
My seven and a half year old, though, still does not get this concept.
(I guess this makes her less hipster than her brother.)
I needed her to call her Father, didn’t have my cell phone around, and so I told her to call him from the house phone.
Not only has she never actually dialed a phone number, she’s never talked on the phone off of speakerphone.
I walked her through dialing his number, then had to tell her to put the phone on her ear three times.
It’s as if she’s never seen me talk on the phone.
Oh wait – she hasn’t. I text.
As soon as I let her, she quickly jettisoned that foreign piece of insanely complex technology and went back to expertly playing games on her iPad.
Noah, meanwhile, continued moving up in the world of 1990s tech. He found an old Nokia-style toy cell phone, and, after asking me what the antenna was and why my phone didn’t have one, became completely inseparable with his communication device.
It currently goes everywhere with him, ready at any moment for an array of uses.
He uses it to check in on friends, such as Mr. Branch, a large tree limb that he became quite close to at my parent’s house. He introduced me to Mr. Branch when we picked him up, and suggested I shake his hand. I did so, and tried my best to hide the fact that I accidentally broke off one of his fingers. After leaving my parent’s house, Noah found himself missing Mr. Branch terribly.
I saw him punching on his phone one morning while staring intently. He looked up, and explained.
“I’m texting Mr. Branch.”
“Oh yeah? What did you tell him?”
“Nothing. Texting is quiet.”
“Did he answer?”
“What did he say?”
“I don’t know. He said a Spanish word.”
“What was it?”
“Azul. And rojo.”
“Oh. Isn’t that blue and red?”
Then the next day, we were at Aldridge Gardens with some friends. I was at the lake’s edge taking pictures of the gorgeous reflections.
I heard Noah a few feet behind me. I looked back and he was holding his phone up at the lake.
“I’m taking pictures of Amy Beth.”
I followed his phone’s trajectory, and I couldn’t have been prouder.
He had found the perfect shot – and I almost missed it.
If only I’d been quick enough to get a picture of him taking a picture…
And I’m gonna have to get the kid a real phone.