Why it’s Wrong to Be a Texting Family

I’m at my desk in California, so it’s still morning when my daughter calls from a Chicago deli where she’s ordering lunch. “Oh, you’re there,” she says, sounding surprised I’ve answered, and possibly disappointed. “I’m waiting for them to make me a sandwich, then I have to run.”

We need to pin down travel plans, so I pull up my calendar and make notes while she runs down the days she can get off work. The next thing I know she has her sandwich. Our connection is gone. And I realize as much a...