Smart phones and special homes | Our Corner

Another Father’s Day has passed and my kids have not placed me in a home for wacky fathers. I consider that a parenting success.

Another Father’s Day has passed and my kids have not placed me in a home for wacky fathers. I consider that a parenting success.

Children, particularly daughters, have unique relationships with their fathers.

I call it “the voice.”

I hear it all the time from the young women who work in The Courier-Herald office. When I do something they don’t like, which is often, I get the voice. I am sure all fathers with daughters have heard it.

“Gee, Dad, are you drooling? How many fingers am I holding up? Where is your wallet?”

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The voice comes when they don’t want to openly yell at me because they know the real world has passed me by years ago. That is when I hear the olden days term – you know like the 1950s and ‘60s – just yesterday in my world.

My daughter, Katy, gave me a stupid smart phone, which I can’t use and I hate. It was her attempt to make me up-to-date. My simple little dumb phone was great. It worked and I didn’t have to push a bunch of buttons that don’t do anything rational.

A certain reporter in this office that shall remain anonymous (we will call her Theresa) used the voice on me this morning because I couldn’t figure my stupid phone out.

“Maybe they have classes for people like you,” she said in a very sweet voice – the voice.

I have it from a well placed source that God can’t figure out his smart phone. “How come nobody told me how this thing works? Where’s the directions? I get to know things, you know.”

I bet no smarty pants girl uses the voice with him.

Some guys have all the luck.

Next Father’s Day I may find my self in a special home for fathers who can’t properly operate an annoying smarty phone. I bet every father in there would have a daughter using the voice on him.

Push that button dad. Everyone knows that.

Yeah … everyone but me and God.