It’s dark and we’re in bed, continuing the marathon of Supernatural on Netflix. Between us, sleeping most un-soundly, are our twinsie baby boys.
I’ve got my MacBook open on my lap and because it is made of all things magical and indulgent, I can text him from here.
Baybees are stubburn, I type.
Moments later, his response:
Him: Like a fox!
I turn and smile.
The banter begins and we continue to talk this way, mere feet apart, because the clickety-click of our devices is less likely to wake the sleeping baby dudes than our voices are.
Me: Babies can’t hear texting.
Him: Can’t they?
Me: they can also smell fear. and adult sleep.
Him: Yes, and it is angersome and offensive.
It’s funny to me that we, such late adapters of texting, now say so much to each other through our phones.
Some of it is the mundane stuff of life, the I’m running late at work and the guess who just threw up?
Some of it is serious, the please pray for me, today is so hard.
And a whole, whole lot of it is just silly.
My husband and I have rediscovered the fine art of flirting, and our lengthy text message history reveals that we remember now that flirting is something we were always good at.
None of it is racy, if that’s what you’re thinking. (Okay, maybe “none of it” isn’t accurate … Very little of it, I suppose I should say.) Having an oldest child who both fully reads and frequently borrows my phone for games means that our coquetry is quite innocent.
Rather than resorting to lewdness (meh) or nudity (no!), we instead choose to draw on the treasure trove of private jokes that we have filled in seventeen years together. That’s maybe my favorite thing about being with the same person since my freshman year of college – the shared vocabulary, the mutual vernacular, the joint jargon that needs neither context nor explanation. Whether we are across town or in the same room, we mark time with our typed talk.
His business is booming and his days are hectic. Mothering four children is kicking my butt. It would be altogether incredibly easy to fall out of step with each other, ships passing in the bleary night and all that.
But phones in hand and nimble fingers at the ready and we connect with each other, hearts and minds, flirting and LOLing and drawing strength for the craziest of days from our rich and deep past on devices that once seemed positively futuristic but are now so common (and imperative).
All because of love. And texting.