Sometimes I forget how old I am but this week my 15-year-old grandson pointed that out quite clearly. Oh, he wasn't intentional about it! He's too polite and loves his gramma too much to ever say an unkind word to her (me).
Background:: Our house was built in 1965. In terms of house age, that's not old. At least not ancient. Having lived in some "really" old houses, I consider this one "modern".
In the furnace room in the basement hangs an old rotary dial phone. It was there when we moved in. It's so old it's wired in. Even though we don't spend much time in the basement it's handy to have that phone there. So the rotary stayed.
This past weekend we had a great time with our daughter and grandson (thanks for making that 5-hour drive!!!). My daughter spotted the rotary and called DGS to come down and look at it. Then she suggested he call someone. His words???? "I don't know how!"
He's a quick learner, though, and as soon as he completed his call he announced that he wants a rotary of his own.
Then...to convince him that I belong to the age of dinosaurs I told him that when we were kids on the farm our phone was on a "party line". Our phone number (yes, I still remember it) was 45J11. Other numbers on the line were something like 45J12 or 45J21. The "45J" was the line. The last digits represented the number of rings the switchboard operator would ring up. In our case she rang one long and one short. All parties would hear the rings at their home and know that it was our house and not theirs that was being called. We picked up. They did not...at least, not until they were certain we had already picked up...then they might surreptiously pick up their phone and listen in on our conversation. It was wise not to gossip about the neighbors while on the phone!!
And THEN! I told him that in THOSE days we seldom made a long-distance phone call because it was too expensive. The cost? Ten cents.
Today, with our landline and our cell phone, we pay beaucoup bucks.
My grandson is right. I Really Am Old! *tearful smile*