Momma cavefish on cell phones

Five years ago, I was homeless (in a living-in-my-friend's-parents'-attic way, not a cardboard-box way). While I apartment-hunted, I decided it would behoove me to buy a cell phone. Since that fateful day, every conversation with my mother has begun with some variation on the following theme:

Me: Hi Mom.

Mom: Are you on your cell phone?

Me: Yes.

Mom: Why do you sound muffled?

Me: Because cellular is in imperfect technology. Can we please talk about something else?

Mom: You should get a new phone.

Me: MOM THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH MY PHONE.

When my stepfather died a couple of years ago, Mom took his cell phone for a test-drive and ultimately decided to purchase one for herself. I was ecstatic, thinking Mom would finally understand the nature of cell phones. Now our conversations go like this.

Mom: Why do you sound muffled?

Me: I don't know. Maybe you're not getting good reception?

Mom: How can I not be getting good reception? I'm in my own house!

Me: I don't get good reception in your house.

Mom: How can I not get good reception in the house? I don't understand.

Me: Do you have a cell phone tower in your house?

Mom: I think I need a new phone.

Me: You HAVE a new phone.

Mom: I'm calling Cingular. Oh wait, that's better. I wonder why I can suddenly hear fine…