She's imagining a world without text messages 'Hey Mom," my 15-year-old son called out the other day, "when is our next cell phone bill due?" I'm sure there are children in the world who worry about income, budgeting and familial finances. Yet, trust me when I say that this particular adolescent is not one of those children. Still, he had my curiosity up. "Why do you want to know?" "Cuz all of the other kids at school have unlimited texting," he went on to say, "and I think that it's time that we put me into a cell phone plan that tends to my needs." It was at that moment that I realized that although this child looked very little like his older brother, sported different likes, interests, and even tastes in shoes, that he was walking in his sibling's footsteps. In a moment of déjà vu, I was pulled back to a time when Vernon, our eldest and college-bound son presented the same argument. Armed with a pie graph, flow chart and a laser pen, Vernon chased us around the house with a dry erase board and the determination to do a presentation. "Think for me, if you will," Vernon said after he cornered his father and me in the kitchen. He had passed out spreadsheets complete with statistics and figures to all of those in his wake. "Whatever would a child such as me do if ever he found himself in a situation where he couldn't speak?" "I don't know what he'd do," his father whispered in my ear, "but if he couldn't speak, I think that you and I would find that as a cause for a celebration." "Analyze with me!" Vernon said as he tapped the counter in front of us with impatience. He then referred to his homemade chart with a laser pen. "What if there were a situation where you were at pointA, lingering in despair, while I am as far away as point C or even D. Now imagine for me, if you will, that you suddenly had in indescribable desire to hear from me and for reasons that we may never understand, I am unable to speak.Whatever would we do then?" I raised my hand in the air and when he called my name I asked, "Am I needing you to bring home a gallon of milk?" "You could be." "Perhaps," I continued with excitement, "we're calling you to see if you can swing by and pick up little Charlie from the ballpark." I just love it when he picks Charlie up from the ballpark. "Mother," he said as he rolled his eyes, "you're missing the point. Without text messaging, I cannot respond to your requests." "I could just call you and ask." "But what if I am unable to speak?" And that's where he lost us - for both his father and I could think of a time in the not-so-distant past where not only did we not have text messaging, but we didn't have cell phones and yet somehow we survived. Not to mention the fact that money is tight and text messaging is darned expensive. Yet here we were being presented with a similar demonstration from child No. 2. "What's it gonna take to put me into an adequate text messaging program today?" he asked with an abundance of emotion. In the way of his older sibling, he paused for effect as he held a hand over his heart. "You see," he continued, his voice cracking, "I am the one and only kid in the entire region that doesn't have his own form of text messaging at his beck and call.Why, I can barely show my face in the school parking lot." Have we no shame? "I could be kidnapped and held for ransom," he said as he strived to fill his brother's shoes. "Without text messaging, I'd have no hope of ever contacting the outside world again. The thought we should all ponder is this, is there no concern for my personal safety?" "But you're more than 6 feet tall!" his father interjected. "Who would want you?" "People might want me." "What kind of people?" I asked, "I mean, what are they going to do with you, where are they going to take you and what sort of Neanderthal man are they sending to nab you?" "If I were ever kidnapped!" Huey said loudly as he desperately fought to hold on to his idea, "and shoved into the trunk of a car and I couldn't speak, wouldn't you people want me to be able to text the outside world for assistance?" I looked at his father and he looked at me. I think we both decided then and there that although money is tight, if there was someone in the world striving to silence our children, we'd pay top dollar for that. Lori Clinch is the mother of four sons and the author of the book "Are We There Yet?" You can reach her at www.loriclinch. com.