PHONE FEVER

Fact: 95% of 13 to 17-year-olds have their own mobile device. 

Second Fact: Teenagers spend an average of seven hours and 22 minutes on their cell phones every day. 

I believe my two grandsons are way ahead of the curve.

I did the math during a recent visit. On a typical day, they sleep about 9 hours, attend middle school for 8 hours, and do sports for 3 hours, including tennis lessons, baseball practice and shooting hoops in the driveway. That’s 20 hours.

During the other 4 hours, Miles and Henry walk the dog, play with the cat, argue about whose turn it is to change Fluffhead’s litter box, haul out the garbage and recycling, debate Jayson Tatum’s stats, plunk down in front of the Xbox … and spend hours on their mobile devices.

So when does Vivi get to sit, talk and spend quality time with her grands?

One day I volunteered to drive the boys to Ridgewood Racquet Club for their tennis lessons, salivating at the opportunity to spend a few minutes alone in the car with them — just us three. Miles spent the entire ride texting his crew about Friday night plans downtown. Henry played Wordle.

On another day I drove Henry and his pal Kevin to Humdinger.  (RED ALERT: this place is hazardous to a Senior Citizen’s equilibrium, hearing, appetite and balance. Inside the humongous building there’s a bodacious assortment of arcade games, batting cages, bowling alleys, simulated motorcycle rides, plus loudspeakers that blast Katy Perry and Travis Scott at top decibel. Think: Chucky Cheese on mega-steroids.)

I figured I’d ask Henry and his pal which sixth grade subject they liked best. I never found out. The boys sat a foot apart in the back seat of the car and spent the ride talking to each other ON THEIR PHONES.

That Saturday night, 14-year-old Miles (cool, aloof, “Vivi, please don’t yell my name out loud during my baseball game”) invited four pals to spend the night. At one point I peeked into the family room because it seemed dangerously quiet.  There they were, draped over every inch and arm of the sectional sofa, their size 11 Ultra Boost Adidas sneakers planted on the ottoman. 

Supposedly, they were watching an NBA playoff game. In actuality, each boy was glued to his phone, talking/texting/or/playing Mindcraft or Fortnite. Occasionally I’d hear a “yeah!” or “NO!” Otherwise, no conversation.

Now understand this: my grand boys and I do text. But of the 7-plus hours teenagers “typically spend” on their phones daily, I figure I’m lucky if I get 5 minutes worth from the Jersey Boys.  And to be honest, their texts are not exactly Tolstoyesque. Most are monosyllabic:  “Hey,” “Yup,” “Same,” “K.”

But right after I got back in Maine, two texts popped up on my phone. “Miss you Vivi!” “Come back soon!”  

All is forgiven.

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Here’s a photo of Henry getting his first cell phone two days before he entered sixth grade. Do you think he’s a little keen on this?!?