Risk and Insurance
You would think from such a title that I may delve into the health care debate that is rampaging through town halls of our American neighbours.
But I’m not. I’m not american. You don’t see them debating about the new senate members, do you? Heck, you don’t see us doing it either, but still.
I’m here to talk about the my children.
Again.
Sorry.
If you are of the more single, non-child persuasion, you may roll your eyes at the thought of another parent droning on about the wonders of their spawn.
But I’m not doing that either.
The question percolating in my head is: Should my children know how to use the phone?
What kind of question is that? You have obviously heard of the many stories of children calling 911 because an unknown assailant has entered the house, or their parent has just dropped into a coma from an overdose of vitamins. And because these small children, usually ranging from the age of 2 to 4, knew how to call 911, the police arrived to arrest the perpetrators, the firefighters arrived to douse the blazing inferno, and the orphanage was freed from the evil grip of the diabolical landowner who wished to ship the children and the nuns to China.
And so, as a responsible parent, I should educate my children in the wonders of this technology. They should learn how to press buttons. They should be warned of the perils of random number punching, and how with great power, comes great responsibility. And above all, when daddy falls down the stairs because mommy thought it would be best to Pledge every wooden surface, they should know how to call for help.
However, how often do these emergencies happen? I am not one to pay for large amounts of insurance, or paying for those extended warranties. Bell wanted to know if I wished to buy wire-care for $6 a month. Just in case those wires went out. Now, I know those wires could combust at any time, but they haven’t yet. Is it worth the $72 a year, and who knows what other costs will be added on to that. Same goes for their phone-care at $6/month. My phones are cheap, they don’t even cost more than $12. What’s the point in that?
But that’s the risk you take. If I don’t teach my children how to use 911, what happens when I leave them home alone and I’ve baited all the traps with their favourite barbies? Or maybe one of them gets hurt while honing their kung fu skills as I launch wave after wave of melee attacks from a remote, but safe, location.
I have to weigh that risk. If I don’t teach them how to use the phone, I could be laying in a pool of blood at the bottom of the stairs. And they could be laughing at me. As they are wont to do.
If I do, however, teach them how to use the phone, then I would be stuck with many days just like two days ago. Where all their friends wished to call every five minutes because they wanted to talk. The blasted phone wouldn’t stop ringing. And it wasn’t just their friends. It’s like Tuesday was “Let’s play telemarketer” day, and everyone thought my number was the best target. I actually didn’t bother for 80% of the calls because the phone wouldn’t stop.
I loathe phones. I really do.