Ben bought himself an iPhone. This left an extra phone in our family plan. So what’s a Dad to do but let his youngest 12-year-old, 7th-grade, pre-pubescent precocious child use it when she leaves the house. Great, another reason for her to be gone. She asked me, ever so sweetly this morning if she could possibly take it to “the last day of school.”

My emphatic answer was NO.

The shock, the dismay, the question, “Why?”

Well, this will be fun. I will not relent.

“You may not take it to school. I watch you, your siblings, my friends, my spouse, my work partner and complete strangers become obsessed with answering the phone, or send text messages while those around them, in their very presence, are discounted, ignored and irritated. Your brothers come to dinner and instead of participating in a conversation with those present, they are texting those who are not part of me “here and now”. My friend picks me up for a late night ice cream escape and spends 15 minutes conversing with someone else while I sit there, in the suicide seat, talking to myself. Your father takes every business call at all hours of the night and morning ON SPEAKER. In every meeting I have attended, every movie I go to, every event, every play, every concert, someone thinks they are so special that they do not have to comply with the request to turn off their cell phone. So no you will not be joining all the other lost lambs who listen and only respond to the call of the cell phone shepherd. Beware of the wolf in sheep’s clothing, especially the one that comes with a two-year-contract.”

Her eyes are glassy. Her stare is empty. She has drifted off somewhere.

“And there will be no drugs, sex, drinking, or wildness. Do you understand me?”

She snaps out of it. “IGI.” Off she goes. Good thing because my phone is vibrating.