I bought my kids an old-school phone to keep smartphones out of their hands while still letting them chat with friends. But it’s turned into the sweetest, most unexpected surprise: my son’s new daily conversations with his grandmothers.

I plan to write a longer piece about installing a landline phone soon, but for now, I wanted to share this photo of my son talking with his grandmother this morning.

This is how I keep finding him—stretched out on the couch, phone pressed to his ear, intently focused and listening to the matriarchs of our family. I hear laughter and sense a deeper connection blossoming in those conversations.

There’s no scrolling, no distractions, no comparisons, no dopamine hits to chase. Instead he is just listening to stories, asking questions, and having the comfort of knowing someone who loves him is listening on the other end of the line. Somehow, what was once ordinary in my childhood feels sacred today.

Thanks to Jonathan Haidt’s work, I’m doing my best to protect my kids from the attention economy. Meanwhile, they’re happily filling in their address book, having meaningful conversations, and feeling vintage-cool.