Tired of dropped calls?

If you've ever watched Sex and the City you know that besides her friends, Carrie's cell phone was a very important character in the movie, especially in the end. Her cell phone is the last image in the last scene of the last show of the last season.

I, being a SATC super fan, realized yesterday while in the car driving to Mama's-Day-Off destination, I hadn't written much about the show.

Besides turning our broken car air conditioner on and off, on and off, on and off hoping and praying that it would suddenly start working during the 45-minute car ride, I was also thinking about cell phones.

Like Carrie, my first one was a doozie. Big. Clunky. About the size of an old point and shoot camera. Not the digitals either. I remember distinctly why I got it. On my way back to college after the most miserable week of my life, my car not only broke down on Interstate 95 in the scorching heat, it died that day. I was alone, and midway between home and the dorms. I ended up taking a ride with a stranger who didn't end up killing or raping me like society had warned me of so many times.

I felt, after that, that a cell phone was in order.

Like others, I upgraded over the years because as I entered the workforce my job knocking on homes of people's doors, sometimes late at night, warranted it as well.

I still justify having one even though I do not work because I like to walk. And, I don't like to walk without a phone. So many what ifs come crashing in on me, like the serial killers just waiting around to pick up innocent college girls broken down on I-95 in Baltimore.

But, yesterday morning The Da! accidentally broke my phone.

It was one of those blessings in disguise because we've been wondering what else we could do besides cut off the electricity to skimp around here. We already have just basic cable (well, sort of ... but that's another post). We already cut out all the fat in our spending. The cell phones, we think, might be an area of savings.

Do I need that phone? Let's see, no one calls me on it, but maybe once or twice a month. I only use it to call a few people, mostly The Da! and that's not for any other reason than a stay-at-home mom has to say something other than, "Wow, look at that doggie, girls. Doggie. Dog. Can you say dog? Arf. Arf."

And then there is that voice in the back of my head: Stalkers, murderers, rapists, weirdos ... all waiting to grab me, my babies. What would I do without a phone? Who would help me?

Or, what if something happens like J puts her feet up on the stroller bar too high and, I don't know, gets stuck. Or, L, signs bus so hard when she sees one that she collapses from heat exhaustion. I mean, our walks are pretty intense.

And, then there is my mother. She e-mailed to ask why I wasn't going to have my cell phone anymore because she can call me for free on it. Now she can't.

In the end, is that phone really breaking us? Probably not. But, do I need it? Do I really need it?