Deprived

This is how deprived my 12-year-old is. When a friend got a new phone, M crafted a phone for herself with the friend’s discarded packaging materials:

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“Mom, Mom, look!” she called, batting sorrowful puppy dog* eyes at me. “Isn’t this so sad? Oh my gosh, it’s really sad, isn’t it?”

I acknowledged that the homemade phone was both heartbreaking and a poignant reminder of her strength in the face of adversity.

“You know what’s the saddest part about my fake phone, though, Mom?” she asked.

I waited.

“I only put numbers–I forgot the letters. So I can’t even fake-text with my fake-phone.”

My darling girl. She is so brave.

 

 

 

 

*Speaking of puppy dogs, my children still don’t have a puppy dog, either.

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