Good morning, readers!
Things have been a bit rocky for the past couple of days here at Six Flags. Moodswingingmommy is dealing with two sick children. That means no preschool this week, and the cash is free-flowing out the door in the form of medical co-payments.
Since I'm not feeling all that creative, I think I'll continue with my telephone theme from my last post. 'Cause that horse ain't dead yet.
(And whoa, 23 comments?! Thank you for making me feel like Queen of the Blogosphere.)
Upon reflection, I realize that I have other more personal reasons for screening my telephone calls.
First, we live on the same street as a pediatrician with the same name as SuperDad. We get many calls for Dr. Same Name. When I'm in a good mood and otherwise unoccupied, I answer and pleasantly inform people that they have the wrong number. Sometimes I even call them back because a sick child is a priority. I don't mind the inconvenience. However, every so often, the person on the other end is less than polite. I don't expect any of them are reading my blog, but this message is for them:
I understand that you are stressed because your child is feeling ill, but there’s no need to get snippy with me! It’s not my fault that you have the wrong number. And no, unless I’m employed by the phone company or Dr. Same Name, I’m under no obligation to look up the correct number for you. I was nice enough to call you back and tell you that you’d dialed the wrong number because I didn’t want your sick child to suffer. So don’t be a jerk!
(I feel much better now, thank you!)
Second, sometimes the messages left on our answering machine are a source of great amusement to me. I'm sure my mother-in-law and grandmothers everywhere would agree with me on this point, as there are "I wuv you, grandma!" messages saved on machines all over the world. It is not surprising that I enjoy listening to my messages when I consider that my most exciting entertainment opportunities involve going to the Tot Lot and watching whatever is on TiVo.
Some recent highlights:
- the local Baptist Church calling for SuperDad (who is Jewish, in case you'd missed it), inviting him to Easter Sunday Services
- the Republican National Committee calling to solicit funds from SuperDad (who is not a Republican last time I checked)
(Okay, which one of you is playing a joke on SuperDad? Seriously.)
- My all-time favorite has to be the series of messages left in response to my seductive voice:
Heyyyy Jimbo! It’s me. Who’s that on your answering machine? You got yerself a lady friend you aren’t tellin’ me about? Gimmee a call, you lucky dog!
And then 3 days later,
Heyyy Jimbo! It’s me again. How come you haven’t called me back yet? Oh, yer probably too busy with yer lady friend and don’t wanna share her with me. Gimmee a call.
We’ll, uh, go get some eggs or somethin’. Or maybe your lady friend could cook for us.
Gimmee a call, buddy!
Sadly, this man never left his number. Pity, really, because he was so charming I may have been tempted to call him back. Who knows, he may have wooed me away from SuperDad. I like to think that he eventually found Jimbo's correct number and they did have those eggs.
And that, dear readers, is why I love my answering machine.
I'm sure everyone has a favorite answering machine story. I'd love to hear yours!
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