Doof Mom

A portion of an exchange between the DoofMom and the Dad:

DoofMom:  Why shouldn’t an eleven year old boy have a cell phone? I think he should have one — he’s going into 7th grade and he’s responsible.

the Dad:  hrmph

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So after school today, Jare and I had this text message exchange:

Jare:  Hi Mom.

DoofMom:  Hi honey. How was ur day?

J:  Good. Wen do you get off work?

DM:  I get off @ 5

J:  How is dad?

DM:  Dad is ok I think

J: Is he at the store?

DM: I don’t know. Is his car gone?

(at this point, DoofMom is scratching her head — the Dad should be home with the kids . . . he didn’t say he was going anywhere . . . )

J:  Ya

DM: Is Gabby home?

J:  No

DM: Dad might be getting Gabby

J: But gabby is home and dad is home

DM:  Dad is home?

J:  Ya

DM:  Alrighty then

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the Dad:  And this is why you don’t give an eleven year old a cell phone.