My Alternate Universe

So watching that AT&T commercial, where the teenage disaster is texting up the yinyang, I always just laughed and thought it was pretty funny. Like oh, haha, that's funny. Well, that was until I moved home. Now, that isn't funny. It's sadly realistic... My little sisters Samantha and ESPECIALLY Caroline are texting freaks. They text all day! It's gotten to the point that my parents had to officially ban texting from the dinner table. Really, where has common courtesy gone? If my Grandma Carmack, the etiquette queen, lived with us, she'd drop dead. And you know what my sisters do? They sneak texts like little kids dropping their veggies to the dog!
Disgraceful.

So today Samantha was opening her birthday presents (Happy Sweet 16!!!!) and a phone buzzed. She dropped the fresh new clothes from H&M, very concerned that she might have a TEXT MESSAGE, the holy grail of all teenage communication. But "no," my mom said "Caroline's phone farted." Meaning, she got a text message. Which, to the rest of us in such a profuse quantity and while everyone is trying to enjoy togetherness and cake, is just as distasteful.
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Luckily the evening wasn't a total waste... my mom made the connection between her favorite new adjective, "gangsta," and the Steve Miller Band classic "some call me the gangster of love." She sang it beautifully while folding her unmentionables.