I got a text at midnight. Well, 11:57 to be exact.
It doesn't happen often, but it is part of the job description when you invest in the lives of teenagers.
I've done this long enough for the freak-out reflex to finally wear off. It was my Sam-I-Am that went with me to Guatemala and was finally feeling the effects that were finally wearing off for me. I texted her back to drink lots of water to keep from getting dehydrated, and that the doctor would prescribe her some medicine, and then I made her feel better about not being a wimp.
After this exchange, I texted a comment about book we're both obsessively reading, and waited. I knew what she was going to ask me, so I began thinking about what I would reply. Here's what I thought:
"g-h-i. d. m-n-o. m-n. t. j-k.m-n. m-n-o. w. g-h-i. a. m. m-n. m-n-o.t. t.g-h. d-e. p-q-r. d-e."
In my sleepy stupor, I thought about my answer in the language of text. Didn't say the words. Didn't think the words. Thought the text.
What's even crazier: after I realized my silly mistake, I couldn't help but think...hey. This might be a good strategy to help my kids learn their spelling words.
I see a padded room in my future.