Based only on the group stage performances so far, this may be one of the best Soccer World Cups I’ve ever seen. It’s patently unfair that the matches are played while one is at work and then, inconveniently, life gets in the way of evening games. So I choose a match-of-the-day and schedule all my evening chores and fatherly duties around the soccer. But it’s not the football that is getting me into trouble.
Today, dear Sunday Slice faithful, on the occasion of my 11th wedding anniversary to my lovely wife, which we celebrated yesterday, I have a confession. It’s not the soccer that has been causing trouble at home. It’s actually a third party that has caused strained spousal and family relations. It’s not even a human third party. It’s a smartphone.
You see, my smartphone has turned me into a skelm. The behaviour is not of one who is open and transparent. In order to keep the peace at home, the phone is on silent so that it is less pervasive. But the glow in the night, when all is asleep, is there and ever present. The tell-tale signs are there: when my children mimic me in jest it’s always while they’re clutching an imaginary phone in one hand.
The smartphone is a conversation killer. It rips into family time at the dinner table when you’re head down, often abandoning the knife of your set of cutlery to have a free hand to swipe, scroll and respond.
I’m reminded by one of my favourite memes that landed in my whatsapp messages the other day and made me feel guilty.
It reads: “My wife just stopped and said, ‘You weren’t even listening were you?’
“I thought: ‘That’s a pretty weird way to start a conversation.’”
There is an addiction to smartphones that hasn’t been given a medical term yet and I’m an addict. More specifically, my drug is social media. And if I drill down even deeper into my affliction, it is my poison called Twitter.
Even when I do watch my match-of-the-day, I “second screen” - the phenomenon of not only watching the main event on the telly but following the commentary from armchair pundits on Twitter too.
Even when the phone is on silent, I’m a mommy cheetah who can recognise my cub’s squeals in a crowd. When my phone vibrates, I recognise the waves of the vibration.
I’ve decided to take drastic measures. I call it smartphone detox. Luckily, there is a release that I’ve found useful even though it may be considered mundane. It is to be found in that very thing that corporate South Africa loves - the meeting. At home I’ve taken to washing the dishes, folding the washing or throwing all my energy into preparing yummy lunches for the family for work or school.
I’m taking my role as an active listener seriously, so I listen intently to my children when they relate stories of the day. I’ve started to notice the difference in myself and so have my wife and children.
So on the occasion of our 11th wedding anniversary, my gift to my dear wife Laylaa is that I will stop my illicit relationship with my smartphone and give her and the children all my attention when we spend quality family time together.
We took a bold step over this anniversary weekend when we put the phones away and celebrated the occasion as a family - kids and all.
If you’re in the same boat as me, and I’m guessing most of you are, I’m happy to share a few simple rehab tips. The first step is recognising the device isn’t the problem, it’s you. Secondly, you don’t have to reply to every Tweet or Facebook post you see because, contrary to popular belief, the world will continue if you don’t. Thirdly, whatever it is, it can wait. They’ll call back. What did we do before the advent of cellular phones?
But the most important step is realising what is more important and investing in that.
I will immerse myself in the Soccer World Cup and second screen because by then I would have already shared a lovely device-free meal with my family, spent time with my children and would have caught up with Laylaa about her day.
On the 11th occasion of my wedding anniversary, I’m choosing to play an active part in the present and putting the smartphone away. I owe it to myself and my family. So do you.
* This is my final Sunday Slice column. I had great fun writing it, but work commitments have taken me in a different direction. I have appreciated the feedback and engagement over the past few months.