* CHAPTER 4 *

Screens Pro: iCan Finally Take My Kid to a Restaurant. Thank You, Angry Birds!

You know how you resist something solely because it’s popular? Because you’re not a drone that falls in-line with whatever’s trending on Google. Then you try that popular thing and it’s not too bad. And you’re embarrassed it took you this long to admit that, for example, Katy Perry isn’t terrible? Well, the preceding chapter was written before its shitty author broke down and tried Angry Birds.

Oh my.

Please enjoy an opposing view on PDAs, held by the same person.

If your kids’ screen cherry is already broken, you’ve lost the war. They’ve tasted the sweet thrill that comes from killing a pig with a well-flung bird. Now they’re aware of a world beyond the woodsy goodness of Melissa & Doug.

They want more.

Luckily, you’re not alone. Go to an Applebee’s or a T.G.I. Friday’s and you’ll see whole families eating in silence, enjoying their screen-lit dinner. We’ve all surrendered to our glowing overlords.

Oh, not you? You’ve held out, huh? Your daughter isn’t going to have one of those things for a loooooong time. Well. Aren’t you the cocky one.

For your plan to work, you need other mothers to do the same. And they won’t. Your daughter will attend school with their children, and these kids will know she’s “different.” Her reasonable attention span and ability to read something longer than a text will mark her as Other. She will be ostracized and mocked until, one day, her fingertips will find a classmate’s screen. She’ll tap once. Twice. A game will open, and within an hour, she’ll be at level 16.

Maybe not this year, maybe not next year. But surely by second grade. And then you’ll be one of us.

The good news is that the addictive nature of a PDA will increase your parental powers. Your kids will become junkies and you, their dealer.

Imagine for a moment what it must be like to dole out coke to a cokehead. That’s a cokehead that you can control. That’s a cokehead who will brush his teeth the first time he’s asked. Who will be quiet at a Starbucks and engrossed during the aforementioned seven-hour drive.

Don’t pretend the iPhone is lost, broken, or forgotten—that makes you look weak. And a good dealer never looks weak. Instead, let your cokeheads know that their connection, Mom, has downloaded the smartphone equivalent of 10 kilos of sweet stuff from Bolivia. And they will get it after they eat their peas.

Managing the flow of demand: This is how nations are built and rebellions are crushed.

You pimp, you.

Remember: We’re all going to hell together.

PDA Lies You Tell Your Kids

They see you using it, despite that it’s “No Screen Sunday.” And they want to know why they can’t.

“Mom’s just checking her e-mail.”

Despite your new rule, there you are, tapping away. And you’re not checking e-mail. No one e-mailed you. Well, two people did, but one of them is a “horny MILF” who thinks you are a guy and lonely. The other is your husband and he doesn’t count.

“Let’s listen to the radio.”

A driving quandary. You want to listen to Marc Maron’s podcast, WTF, on your iPhone, but it’s too dirty for your four-year-old daughter, so you can’t plug the phone into the speakers. So you put the radio on and slip the phone between your legs. You stick an earbud in your left ear (facing the driver’s side window) and leave the right ear unbudded. As far as your daughter knows, you and she are both suffering through corporate radio together. Enjoy that lie as long as you can. The moment she notices that little white wire dangling from your left ear, not even remotely blending in with your brown hair, she will never trust you again.

“Mom wants to make sure this game is appropriate for you.”

Oh really? Then why are you still wearing earbuds? You’re not done listening to WTF. Everyone knows it.