Bear is her new owner. She immediately named her "Kelly."
To Bear she is heaven, Disneyworld, and her new best friend all wrapped up in a metallic pink bow garnished with jazzy ringtones. She is completely and obnoxiously enarmored with the damn phone. For all the gushing she does over the sheer amazingness of her phone, the kid should be getting a weekly advertising check from Motorola.
Bear has been petitioning steadily for a cell phone since THIRD GRADE, when the first of her friends received one. "Mom, Christa can call her mom from the school bus to ask if she can go on a playdate!" she told me earnestly. Like I would somehow find this convincing. I was not swayed.
But now, in sixth grade, I had to admit that some situations were cropping up where it would have been useful for her to have a phone, like school activities that ended after dark. I even had to lend her mine on a couple of occasions, which was not so convenient. When Nana and Papa offered to get one for her as an early birthday present, I caved.
It's only to be used to call for rides and to call family at this point. No calling friends. I'm not ready to totally jump into the deep end. She's only eleven, after all. For now, she is content. She's happily texting and calling us, her grandparents, and her aunt and uncle. She changes her ringtones every two and a half minutes. She takes pictures of the cats, her sister, and tinfoil ("it makes a cool texture for a background!").
This is about the maximum distance Bear ever allows between herself and the cell phone:
This photo kinda says it all, yes?
