But, Dad, all the kids have cell phones!
Are We There Yet? • LORI CLINCH
Our third child is named Lawrence. You may know him better as "the only kid in the eighth grade without a cell phone."

It was a lonely status for a child to endure. While all of the other kids were downloading their very own ringtones, selecting their five faves and communicating to the world via text messaging, our Lawrence was sequestered from the crowd and left to verbalize his thoughts in face-to-face conversations.

The horror!

In our defense, we, as his parents, felt there were certain criteria that must be met before adding a line, expanding a plan and hooking a kid up.

We thought that the responsible parents must take the time to ask themselves a few questions consisting of — but not limited to — is this child often misplaced or left behind at gas stations? Does his mother absent-mindedly run errands and remain oblivious to the fact that he is waiting to be picked up from practice? Most important, is he able to truly connect with his homies?

As my husband will tell you, there are people who actually grew up without cell phones. It may seem unbelievable but it's

true. Furthermore, Pat will declare that he went to school, worked the land and traveled abroad without a network, and although he once got lost in Boise, Idaho, he never needed therapy or suffered any ill effects from not being able to IM his BFF. Fact is, if I (his adoring wife) had not had to load the kids into the vehicle on more than one occasion and drive across town to

tell him that the concrete truck was running late, the man would still be hanging out in the dead zone.

That being said, he certainly never saw the need for the kids to be connected via a cellular device. It was our oldest who broke the ice and campaigned with heart. "Imagine for me, if you will," he said as he stood at his makeshift easel, "that I am at point 'B.'You people," he continued as he tapped on the dry-erase board with a broken radio antenna, "are clear down here at point 'C' and need me to drive by point 'A' to get a gallon of milk. How, we must ask ourselves, do you plan to contact me?"

What his argument lacked in facts it more than made up in drama.

Huey, our second son, took an approach all his own. Not wanting to replicate his brother's demonstration, he went around a different corner and suffered a flat tire there. If he had a cell phone, he argued, he could have called his auto club (aka dear old Dad) and had help with the change and avoided being 20 minutes late and giving his precious mother a case of mild angina.

Those were tough acts for our dear Lawrence to follow. He knew full good and well that we, as his parents, had learned to run from an easel and other demonstrative devices, and since he doesn't have a vehicle, he can't produce a flat tire and is unable to repeat the late-night drama titled "If only I had a cell phone!"

He tried the familiar arguments of social abandonment and the inability to communicate with his peeps, and for some reason I saw him struggling with the manipulation that came so easily to his brothers and decided to aid his cause.

Some would say I was playing favorites, some would call out a "big, fat no fair!" and still others would say that I was relieved that Lawrence was the first child who never threw his mother to the wolves by declaring to his father, "If we can't afford another line, then why does Mom have a text-messaging plan?"

"I just don't know why he needs a cell phone," Pat remarked over the morning coffee. "The other boys didn't have one until they were driving."

"I know, but kids are getting them younger and younger all of the time. It's part of their culture. It's who they are; it's how they communicate."

I was doing my best to sell it, but Pat wasn't buying.

"It's the wave of the future," I continued. "Why, it's only a matter of time before hospitals distribute cell phones to newborns right along with birth certificates. Babies will be text messaging their boys back at the crib, saying, 'Hey, if you thought the nursery was a trip, you should get a load of this nice ride!' "

"And why do you want to promote that?" Pat asked.

"I suppose I never got over the guilt of forgetting him at the gas station."

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.