Getting text messages from my kids has been a recent adjustment.
Although only 19 months apart in age, my boys are as different as they come with their mannerisms, personalities and approach to life. How they send text messages is yet another example of how different these boys are at this age.
While Beckett’s texts are short and to the point, Carson’s are long and random. For what it’s worth, neither kid has a phone yet. They are using their iPad messaging capabilities.
Beckett’s texts usually are requesting something. One I got this week when I ran out to run an early-morning errand was, “please bring me a vanilla milkshake with whipped cream and no cherry.” I wrote back, it’s 8 a.m. He responded, “McDonalds is open.” He was right, but I resisted.
On another occasion, Beckett texted me, “I need a new iPad, it’s been glitchy for months.” I wrote back, “Christmas is coming up.” He wrote back, “yeah in eight months.” When I didn’t respond right away, he opted for sending a recorded voice message outlining the reasons why he prefers vanilla over chocolate milkshakes.
Unlike his big brother who keeps his texts short, demanding and pointed, Carson sends a barrage of random stuff.
For example, he texted me after school one day this week asking, “How many steps do you have? I have 10,031.” I wrote back, “9,034, see you soon.” He then sent me a flurry of messages containing dozens of GIF images he found on his iPad, ranging from a diaper-clad baby shaking his bottom, a gaggle of geese chasing Donald Duck and Steve Harvey’s “oh, you crazy” to meatballs jumping noodles like a jump rope, Shaquille O’Neal blocking a little child’s shot and Garfield falling face first into a poop emoji.
While different, they both have been keeping me entertained.
It never ceases to amaze me what gets and retains their attention and what does not.
On Wednesday afternoon, there was a rocket launch from Wallops. It was all I could do to get Carson to stop playing basketball for a few minutes to watch it soar across the sky. I eventually insisted he leave the ball behind and come with me to the backyard to watch it.
To prove a point, he said he could not see it repeatedly. Though he has some vision issues, I found it hard to believe he could not see the white condensation trails following a red fiery ball blasting across the sky.
An hour later, while playing a board game, the dice rolled on the floor and I couldn’t find it immediately. Carson found it with ease in short order in a nearby corner. His vision appears to be selective.
In Beckett’s case, the horses on Assateague are a yawner to him these days. However, he’s fascinated by watching some dude across the country play a video game on YouTube.
When I asked him if I had this right – he would rather watch a stranger play a video game online than look at horses playing in the marsh – he accused me of trying to stop him from improving and getting better at something in life. He has a flare for the dramatic for sure.
As I turned my attention to Carson in the backseat to point out the horses, he glanced out the windows and hunched his shoulders. He couldn’t see them, despite them being about 20 feet from us. He did, however, find a quarter on the floor of my truck.
One of the best things about Facebook to me is the “Memories.”
It’s like a virtual photo album that reminds us of times gone by.
Over the last couple weeks, since Easter falls at various times in the calendar each year, both Pam and I have been getting memories of past Easters with family. It’s always great to see how much the kids have grown over the years.
I have especially enjoyed the various outfits the kids have worn for Easter. These memories typically feature albums with morning photos when the boys look especially snazzy with everything in place and where it should be and then later quite the opposite, looking disheveled after a long day of chocolate, ham and running around.
Some other memories over the past week have included Easter egg hunts with grandparents who have since passed away or are handicapped now from unfortunate health circumstances; past Easter morning baskets, which seemingly grow each year; church presentations, which are always funny; some adorable suits the kids have donned for the occasion; epic egg dyeing fails captured on camera; videos of the boys clumsily finding eggs in our backyard as toddlers; and lots of chocolate-covered faces from some gluttony.
There are certainly lots of negatives with Facebook, but the daily memories feature is one to cherish. I’ve even found myself posting photos just so I can be reminded of them years from now.