The Phrase I Texted My Kids 133 Times
Too loud. Too loud. Too loud. If you were to scroll through my archive of texts with my children—from the start of the coronavirus pandemic, in 2020, to the end of last year—you would find that I sent 133 of these messages. I discovered this a few weeks ago, sitting alone on the couch in my living room, when, on a whim, I searched for the phrase on my phone. My youngest daughter, age 19, has been the most frequent recipient of the text, though each of my three children appears in the archive. Typically, I sent these messages between 10 p.m. and 2 a.m. The backstory to each, I’m sure, was relatively consistent: I was in bed, thinking about my schedule for the next day—a board meeting, a difficult conversation I needed to have—when from downstairs came the noise. Shrieks of laughter. Trash talk escalating over a video game. A heated debate about a book or a TV show or a person, infused with teenagers’ fierce intensity. Or perhaps it was someone deciding at …







