I struggle sometimes to understand our 2-year-old’s words, but a couple of his recent sentences were as clear as a whistle.

“Dad, put down your phone,” he said as I doomscrolled on the couch after work. “Play trucks.”

Luke has two deep loves: his mother and his toy trucks. I had put off playing with him on this day and felt my wife’s gaze hit me from across the room after he dropped his demand.

Sensing a guilt trip, I put my phone aside and hit the floor, monster truck in hand.

But it was more than a looming guilt trip from the boss that prompted my compliance. Luke had asked me to put my cellphone down and play trucks a few days earlier. The phrase “deadbeat dad” started to scrawl itself across my forehead after his second request.

We played trucks and put him to bed. (He sleeps with a yellow 18-wheeler in his crib.) It was fine, but the ordeal struck me. I have a fickle relationship with cellphones and devices for kids. Our societal obsession is linked to increased rates of depression and anxiety among adolescents. With six kids and no shortage of devices, it worries me.

Cellphones have their place but need limits, my wife and I agree, including for ourselves. So I set a limit a few nights later and held the first No Device Night at the Bodkin’s.

The plan was simple. No phones. No tablets. No TV. Just eight Bodkins in our living room to see what the night brought, even if we just looked at each other awkwardly for an hour.

The complaints rolled in immediately, first from our 14-year-old, the only one of our kids with her own cellphone. Conveniently, we had grounded her from it a few nights earlier for sassing her mom.

Perfect timing. Problem solved. Still, she had to protest. She’s 14.

Our other school-aged daughters, 11 and 12, whined next about having to ditch the two Kindle Fire tablets Santa brought them.

Too bad, so sad.

The one not complaining? Luke, who suddenly had half a dozen deviceless humans to play trucks with. He lit up like a fire engine. His first target, to my delight: Our 14-year-old. Soon, they were playing on the floor.

The party had started.

Before you could say iPhone 17, our 5-year-old, Baylie, dragged a Paw Patrol tent she’d been dying to pitch into the living room.

We pitched it with the other girls’ help.

The party was going.

The night before, we moved our living room furniture against the walls to accommodate extended family for brunch. The older girls seized the space by grabbing their Nerf basketballs and dribbling away. Someone blasted pop music from the kitchen.

The party was hopping.

Baylie and Luke danced and, to our slight confusion, she busted out some random pushups. Someone even organized a crab-crawl race across the floor.

We laughed. We joked. We almost broke the living room lamp.

All the kids – 14-year-old included – put their feet in a circle for a good ol’ game of Skunk in the Barnyard.

The only one not in full compliance with the no-cellphone rule: me. I snapped photos of the moment to keep the memory – and to show to the girls the next time they complain about no-device night.

The obvious lesson for me and my wife: A little device limiting goes a long way.

Send your parenting stories or tips to devin@idahoednews.org. We can always use them.