Texting, or BBMing (blackberry messenger texting) is the way many of us communicate these days. It is not only the kids that converse this way, now many adults do as well. The keyboard-based phones have revolutionized the speed in which we can now get our message out. Back in the day of traditional cell phones (jeez, that does sound ridiculous) we were forced to spell things painstakingly with triple keystrokes to get the correct letters out. The full keyboards have eliminated that awkwardness and helped us to type out error free, coherent messages.
Well, most of us.
Every crowd has one. The person who loves to converse in BBM and does so regularly. That person is sensitive, completely in touch, a responsible friend and the worst damn thumb typist on the face of the earth. Many try to understand her messages but few can decode the nonsense that rolls off her fingertips and out into the BBMosphere. I have gotten pretty good at looking at the letters on the keyboard next to the ones that have been typed to try to decipher her messages.
Oh, honey, you know who you are, and so do all your friends. But we love you just the same.
Full disclosure, I asked permission to write this and she is a damn good sport.
To give you an example of how funny things can with a friend like this, here are a few examples that happened during a not so funny time in her life this week.
First, she bbmd her husband who was picking up her daughter at college with an urgent message. He looked at it. Looked at it again. Then handed it to his daughter and said, “Can you tell what she is trying to say here.” The daughter’s response was, “Hmmm, there really is no way to tell.”
Later that day she sent me a message about her son having to have some unpleasant test while in the emergency room. Here was our exact conversation:
Me: Ew at 50. Ewwwwwww, kill me now at 14.
Her: That’s what linda said
Me: Who the hell is linda?
Her: Long Nails
Me: Linda long nails?
Her: no I mean that is what he kinda said. my nails are long for typing
Me: OMG, I thought the nurse giving him the test was named Linda and she had long nails.
I am happy to report her son is now ok. But during the afternoon we did get to talk about ‘ibtestines’, i found out that ‘whabdoesnt kill u makes us stronger’ and she shared that nails were a mess because she had ‘missee her monicrd’.
Yeh, well, better to be all thumbs than tongue tied, right?
Wishing a speedy recovery to a 14 year old who is a reeeallly, reeeallly good sport!
Haven’t had enough of me yet? You can also read me at 50-Something Moms Blog. For photo enthusiasts, visitLeaving the zip code, photos from outside the comfort zone.
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i could cry but i don't have time 