“Seriously Mom. You’re going to use the phone book?” While contemplating the Yellow Pages’ value, my daughter types in Papa Murphy’s, our zip code, and locates a coupon…all on line. In seconds, she’s ordering our garlic chicken pizza and cookie dough. I’m still wondering where I left my phone.
“My six-week-old granddaughter is going to grow up without knowing about phone books,” I mutter.
“When she’s older, she can use it as a booster seat,” my daughter jokes, trying to make me feel better.
I don’t feel any better. How different will my grandchildren’s lives be from mine? How different than their parents’ lives? My two-year-old granddaughter has a “game” on her Grams’ phone, a recent Child Development Professor. “How did I allow that? That’s not developmentally appropriate,” I chastise myself.
Yesterday my four-year old grandson inquired, “Grams, where’s the video?” as I strap him in his car seat.
“Gram’s car doesn’t have one. We can talk,” I proudly reply.
Moment’s later my daughter directs me to Kylie Ann’s one month photos. “Just use the mouse and click on each photo,” she explains.
“It won’t work on the glass.”
“Just use the phone book,” she chuckles. “Now there’s a use for your phone book.”
For a minute, I feel a little better. My phone book is still useful!
I return to my thoughts. My grandchildren won’t even know that phone books existed. What a different world they’ll live in; probably just as different as my childhood was from my great grandparents’ childhood. They didn’t know what telephone phone books were either.
Image source: old-phone-3077296_[Pixabay.com]