Our family does a major handphone upgrade once every 2 years. This is something The Husband enjoys doing for us. Like the prehistoric hunter, The Husband stalks his prey assiduously over a few weeks over large plains of newspaper advertisements. He then identifies for each individual of his little tribe, the handphone most suitable for each of our lifestyles and needs. Then he strategizes his approach to get the cheapest and the best deal. That done, he launches himself to the attack and brings home still wriggling pieces of communication machinery that every tribe member squeals over. Then, satisfied, his hard work over, The Husband settles back in his chair and enjoys our pleased smiles and happy hugs. Every now and then, he leans forward "Do you like what I bought?" and smiles broadly when we respond with a chorus of yes-es.
When I was in full time consulting, The Husband would insist on carrying his own crappy "thing" for another 2 years in order to apportion to me the nicest, coolest and most feature-packed pet. The Daughter would excitedly inherit my old pets because even after 2 years, they were cool enough for her. Later, when I resigned from fulltime consulting, I insisted that I wanted nothing less than a free pet, no matter what it looked like, and what it did not have. This time around, the tribal apportioning has again changed.
We celebrated The Daughter's progress. and Little Boy's coming-of-age. Little Boy took on someone else's old pet. He was overjoyed! His very first pet.
The Daughter was given a lovely pet with a QWERTY keyboard, and preloaded with a document processing capabilities. She has changed from the kid who needs to call her mother, to a young lady who needs to co-ordinate meetings, send off urgent emails, manage clashes in schedule and make full use of every waking moment to be productive. So, we gave a her a business phone so that she can be productive on the go. With her new pet, she can write essays in the bus, and upload Geography notes to study in my car. Hopefully, this will save her enough time that she can spend with us when we go on picnics and walks.
I must add too, that the Daughter is no mean Hunter herself. Together with her father, she stalked the plains and found her target according to the age old rules of family tradition: cheap and practical. Not for us to pay extra just for the fashion factor. And then with her father, she launched her attack, and brought home her beast wriggling and warm in its box.
And me, I am happy with my new free pet, because the old one ate up my sms-es and wouldn't crow properly in the mornings to wake me up in time to make breakfast for my family. The Husband? He insisted on keeping his crappy "thing".