We're probably the last household in the US that doesn't have smart phones. (Except for Grace, who is Ms. Moneybags and unable to wait for the Day of Cell Phone Reckoning, bought her own iphone and her own cell phone contract which she pays herself with her own online billpay from her own checking account. It's adorable.)
Myself, I don't even have a phone on our family plan and use my work-issued phone.
Behold: the world's most embarrassing phone
I used to actually be ashamed to be seen with this phone, then I was a little pugnacious: "you wanna sneer at my PHONE?" but now I'm like whatever, I don't care, so what if my phone resembles a tiny hand grenade? I own this phone, people. (But not really.) I have gotten adept at texting on the number pad and feel like I am preserving a lost art whenever I do so. Since this is a work-issued phone, I have inherited my predecessor's saved texting vocabulary: 4real, GENERATOR, DRUNK, and other words unrelated to medical software. Actually, "DRUNK" might be mine, texted to Jon in the middle of the night when he wasn't home yet. But I only used it once and now it wants to populate whenever I enter a "D."
So anyway, I did not do the months of advance planning, despite my children's constant reminders and now have 24 hours in which to research the confounding world of cell phone plans. Could they make them any more confusing?