A Phone Saved My Daughter’s Life
Or so we were texted
My daughter’s life was crashing around her.
Her friends told her she didn’t fit in.
New friends couldn’t keep in touch.
She was the last one to know about the next get-together.
Even when friends were face-to-face, she wasn’t equipped to interact.
It sounds like a social problem, and it is about social things.
But it had very little to do with my daughter’s social skills. Those are just fine. So fine, in fact, that she consistently shames her older brother. He’s a half-decade behind when it comes to social things.
She, on the other hand, is a social savant.
And for years she let us know that she was doomed because of something beyond her control.
Of course, it was her parents’ fault.
Can you guess what doomed her?
Was it her clothes? They were not all bonprix or Pepe, but there was enough H&M to be acceptable.
Was she a little short? Our doctor had at one time predicted about five-foot five. That’s a good height, not runway model tall but still respectable. Midway through puberty, the projection became 5-foot-three-and-a-half: “Why do my grandparents…
