Mistext

A new study shows that individuals, particularly teens, who text most often -- like, when they are awake, and sometimes also when they are asleep -- are more at risk for engaging in dangerous behaviors. This is sobering news, but the good news is, the Hero and I should be safe!


I say this on the basis of the total number of texts we send, which are limited by our severely incompetent fingers. The fingers express their displeasure at being made to perform an exacting task for which they were never intended -- if they had been, our hands would be about a third of their actual size -- by sabotaging the whole process, with the result that when we are sure we texted


Get bread store


it actually gets sent as


Braid dog more


Once I was at the store attempting to choose just one kind of ice cream to bring home, and I texted the Hero for his input. He responded with


U choose, Locus


This text was quickly followed by an amended text saying


I mean Lovie


"Locus" attempted not to laugh too noticeably, there in the ice cream aisle, where a family of three was also making efforts to choose just one kind of ice cream.


Another night I had been stuck in traffic on Interstate 70, and in an effort to spare the Hero the same fate, I texted him Don't come home 70. At least, that's what I thought I texted. My traitorous fingers rearranged my text to say


Don't come Jo


and then, with absolutely no authorization from me, they pushed "send."


I tried again, this time sending, prematurely,


Don't come ho


At this point I considered just calling, but the time it would take to dial, ring, him to pick up, etc., was...hmmm, substantially less time than to send another text.

Occasionally the problem is not fingers that act on their own authority, but the delay in receiving texts sent to or from home, where there is a notoriously weak signal. Our texts, instead of being instantaneous, rival the post office for time delays:

Me (upon Hero's arrival home with a large supply of leeks): "Why did you buy leeks?"

Hero: "You texted me to get some."

Me: "No, that was last week. And it was cheese, not leeks."

And so we forge on with our texting, thankful that world security does not rest on such text communications as

Home late -- couch needs engine painted

Today's blog brought to you by Locus and Jo