I’m not a big rule maker. I guess it comes from a lifetime of trying to bend all the rules. Don’t get me wrong, I expect a lot out of my kids. I harp on manners, mostly the being respectful thing more than table manners, although I try to sneak those in, too. I’ve never had to put limits on video games, and I’m pretty flexible on what they are allowed to watch on television. The only thing I can think of that I have said straight up no to is having cell phones. What 10 year old needs a cell phone? My boys barely use our house phone. We have VHF radios we use when they go to the neighbors, and I can’t tell you how many time they have been lost or left out in the rain. The whole idea of kids this age with cell phones seems so silly to me, but Christian wants one desperately. One of my friends and I are both faced with this request daily and after many discussions, we all decided that 12 seemed like an okay age to finally give in, but they have to pay for it. Christian has been saving since birth. I still don’t think a 12 year old needs a cell phone, but it was a compromise I could live with. This weekend, Christian was invited to go with some friends to a movie, dinner and bowling. My boy has never been away from me like that unless it was with family or our neighborhood family. I was panicked. What if he needed me? Don’t state the obvious here. I do realize that the Dad he was with would let him call me, but you can’t explain that to an overprotective mother. This morning, when I should have been sleeping late since it was Saturday and all, I was wide awake worrying. I knew Christian would be in good hands, but it didn’t matter. I had to have some connection to my boy throughout the day. So what did I do? I hopped out of bed, raced to the closest Wal-Mart and bought him one of those disposable cheapo cell phones. I activated it 10 minutes later and immediately felt better. When he realized I was handing over a phone, he was beyond excited. It may have been the best day of his life. I wonder if it will break his heart when he has to return it as soon as he gets home. Oh well, he’ll get past it… maybe.