Sure, That Kid Can Operate A Smartphone, But Does He Know The Sound Of Your Voice Reading A Book?

Two kids just went to the left on bikes.
Two kids just went to the right on skateboards.
As usual, I sat on the porch and watched them all.

It's been pretty decent outside today and that porch has been the scene of most of my schoolwork. I may not understand half of what I'm doing, but the sunshine makes me feel remarkably brilliant. The last few hours have been a nice change from what the first part of the day consisted of... two separate appointments at two different doctor offices. All that waiting and watching and listening left me with only one question in my mind:

Doesn't anybody read books to kids anymore?

The first office was that of a pediatrician. The oldest and I sat directly across from a grandpa-looking fellow and a little girl who had to be around two or three. She giggled. She smiled. She sang the same song over and over (Dora the Explorer's backpack song). And all this was done while she was intently watching the iphone or droid or whatever it was that she had propped up on her lap. A boy of ten or so got up when his mom nudged him repeatedly while his name was being called. He was transfixed by some other kind of tablet-type thing complete with headphones and had to be led out of the room by the cord he was attached to. Not to be outdone by his ultra-cool sound-listening system, a girl across the room was be-bopping her heart out to some tune she was plugged into.

The next stop was a specialist of sorts, so the crowd here was not just limited to kids and their guardians. Even so, the little kids who were there stood pestering the adults they were with non-stop for a chance to use their phones. Moms would sigh heavily and give in while the dads would frown at the sight of junior dropping mama's phone on the tiled floor. A video game system was set up in the corner and although I didn't see kids running to put the virtual smackdown on anybody, I did notice one thing, and it was the same thing that got me thinking in the previous office. Not one book was to be seen.

Sure, there were gossip magazines and the daily newspaper scattered about the waiting rooms. One place had a television going with no sound while another place had a water feature that was so loud it was no wonder there was a constant line for the bathroom. There were no kids' books, though. No little tables with coloring books and colors like I use to see when my own were that little. Just LED-enhanced technology that left almost every person, adult or child, with that eerie glow on their face. Now don't get me wrong, I'm all for entertaining the kids while they have to wait. Been there, done that. I guess it just seemed odd to me. Then again, it's been a while since I've been in any kind of waiting room.

I thought about the oldest. There was a time when he wouldn't have went anywhere without a Hot Wheel or two in his pockets. That's all that kid needed... give him something with wheels and a pattern on the carpet; he'd be all set. The middle was a dinosaur or cowboy kind of guy. He leaned more towards action figures of any type; no wheels necessary for him. And the youngest? Baby dolls. A Barbie. Anything she could pamper and love on. Wherever we went, though, I always included a stash of what I considered to be the survival kit of waiting for extended periods with toddlers: a ziplock full of graham crackers and a stash of picture books.

When the Hot Wheels would run out of gas, or the dinosaur was wore out from chasing the cowboy, or the baby doll finally went to sleep, I would pull those squirmy kids on my lap and quietly read them a book. Now that I think about it, I probably just liked having them close and whispering in their ear, but I gotta say, those are some of the best memories for me. Oh, we had our moments, that's for sure, but I am so glad I didn't have a smartphone or a gameboy or some other technological marvel that would have stolen that time from me. Those kids grow up way too fast.

Now they want to ride bikes without me.
I couldn't stay on a skateboard if I tried.
And the front porch is the only place I've got left.

Happy sigh. =)