Well today, the smug of smug holier than thou got a text...in church. And I couldn't ignore it. I kept getting "alerted" over and over. I decided it would probably be better to just check the text to see what was going on—and to see who it's from—and to see if it was urgent—and to see if I had to respond...you know.
So I checked it. Turns out it WAS from an important person, and it WAS urgent, and I HAD to respond. Here's the text...from Robyn:
It was scrawled on the back of the program.
How could I not respond? I reached over and hugged my little Robyn, secretly terrified that my 8-year-old child not only knows how to text, but has memorized the face of a generic cell phone sufficiently to produce it from memory in *gasp* sacrament meeting!
Allegedly they're just going to get older, text more, and hang out with me less. The future is a scary place. For now, I'll take my texts like this; they're way better than the electronic kind.