When old skool phones push the right buttons - Janet Christie's Mum's the Word

After weeks of frustration with Middle Child’s lack of a mobile I join him for his second visit to the shop, the first one having ended with him leaving without a device.

We did try to do this online honest, but a clusterthingy of linked devices failure has left him out in the virtual cold without phone or online banking. In real life he’s snug and cosy at mine but to everyone else his whereabouts are unknown and I can only deal with so many ‘Yo bros’ and ‘S ’ups? a day from pals chasing him down. The time has come to visit a bricks and mortar shop to buy a phone from a flesh and blood person.

“You’re so analog,” says Youngest.

“Too right,” I say. “I want to see it, smell it, touch it. The hours I spend downloading apps and devising new passwords and fannying around when I could just go to a shop.”

“I went to the shop,” says Middle sadly. “It was going really well, then the computer said no. I don’t understand how the staff stay so calm, through screen after screen,” he says.

“Training,” says Youngest Child briskly, a veteran in the grilled chicken hospitality sector. “You keep smiling and polite no matter what, like late on when we’ve sold out and customers accuse us of hiding the chicken and start shouting. Just smile and explain again, because it’s not personal.”

“Shouting?” I say.

“They’re just hangry and frustrated,” she says calmly. I’d probably tell them they’re overtired and just being silly and need an early night, but no, she’s right, from memory that only enrages and provokes a full-on stampy tanny.

Back in the mobile shop the assistant is similarly patient and smiling, and an hour in, we’re almost there. Then the computer says no.

“£$%£!” says Middle. “Sorry.”

“It’s ok,” she smiles. “We’ll sort it out. But now we have to wait 14 days. Have you thought of a button phone meantime?”

We take it. An old skool tiny phone that can make calls and send texts, like the one he sends me later from the room next door. The very dab.

“Yo, just testing.”

“I want a button phone too,” I text and add a couple of emojis.

“Can’t see emojis, lol,” comes the reply.

I’d call that progress.