I’m hoping you won’t think any less of me.
But I’m not really much of a texter.
I know that puts me hopelessly behind the times and my dear husband has done his best to bring me up to speed. He even went out and got me a snazzy new phone (and, no, I haven’t a clue what kind — but it’s got this really cute pink polka-dot cover that I picked out myself?).
So the other day I heard this peculiar swoosh sound emanating from the thing. Curious, I picked it up and saw there was a green bubble square indicating I had a message.
A message? For me?? And suddenly I’m a young girl in junior high who’s just been passed a carefully folded-up note — intended only for my eyes.
No name given, but I recognized the number. Knew it by heart. It was his. That man I married.
The message went like this: “Hey Gorgeous, you’re my girl.”
That’s it. That’s all he said.
But, ooh-hoo! Did that ever light some spectacular fireworks in my heart! I nearly swooned with love for the guy.
And I decided that I liked my new phone. And I liked texting. And I sure did like him.
It also got me thinking…
What about a reply? I should write back to him. What kind of “note” could I deliver in return? Hmmm…
[Read the rest of the article at The Time-Warp Wife.]