Daddy

I was walking Scout out in front of the house and as usual she was sniffing everything, checking it all out. Who peed here, who pooped there, what's that candy wrapper all about, when suddenly she got real interested in something laying deep in the grass. It was a phone. Not a real fancy iPhone, but it was a smart phone. I picked it up and looked it over. It was a bit moist from the morning dew so I took it inside and let it dry off for a few hours. When I was sure it wouldn't short out, I plugged it into my charger. The phone was not locked, no password needed, so I looked through the photos to see if I recognized anybody. I didn't. They were horrible, blurry photos taken in Orlando, Florida. Next I checked the contacts. There were only about fifteen of them, but one was labeled "Daddy". Oh, I thought, this could be kinky. I still could not figure out if the phone belonged to a female or a male, but if it was a male he was kind of childish. I started calling the contacts on the phone, but nobody answered. Then I asked one of my neighbors if he recognized any of the names in the contact list. He did. The phone belonged to a guy named Tony, two doors down. So I walked around back to the alley where Tony's grandfather, Croatian Steve, was working in the garage and gave him the phone.

"Ah, that Tony. He bad boy. No keep any-ting good. I give it back to Tony."

Tony is six years old. I should have figured it was a kid since most of the apps on the phone were games. Simple, stupid games.

When I was a kid my mom would give me ten cents and tell me to find a pay phone if I needed her to come pick me up. And that was only if I were going to the skating rink. Otherwise we were on our own. Off to the woods, on our bikes to the stores uptown, or over on the other side of town with our friends. No phones. No way of tracking us down. I think my mom kind of liked it that way because it meant the house was quiet for awhile. Seriously, if I had kids I would not get them phones. And if for some reason they did get phones, I would not put some kind of app on them that told me every move they made. Last thing I would want to know is what the hell they were up to, because ignorance is bliss. Ask my mom. The few times she did find out what the hell I was doing, I think she really wished that she hadn't.