Found this when I went out into the kitchen this morning upon waking. Hard to fuss at J about making a mess on the top of the peanut butter fudge candy when it says something sweet like, "Hi Mom".
I'm glad he's still talking to me. After Wednesday night's fiasco, I'm kind of surprised he even acknowledges me as his mother.
J plays guitar for the worship team at our church. They practice one evening a week, usually until 9-9:30 or so. So when it got to be 10:20 and he still wasn't home, I thought I should give a call and make sure the car wasn't broke down on the side of the road or something.
I called J on his cell phone and when he answered, I asked, "Where are you?". He seemed puzzled and said, "Hello?"
We don't get great reception where we live so I said, "Hi J, it's Mom. Can you hear me?"
"Hi," he answered.
"Are you on your way home?" I asked.
"Who is this?" he asked.
I said a little more loudly now, "It's me. MOM. Are you finished with practice?"
He said, "Hello? Hello?"
Okay, he's playing with me. Probably surrounded by his friends, laughing at me, and enjoying messing with his mother. So I cop quite a little attitude and yell, "J, knock it off. WHERE ARE YOU?????"
I looked out the window and saw his car pull in the drive and said, "Oh, you're home." And then I hung up.
J walked in, smiling and whistling, said "Hey," and started to head upstairs. "Where's your phone?" I asked. Because now I'm starting to wonder what just happened. He pulled it out of his pocket and gave me a funny look. I said, "Why didn't you just tell me you were almost home?"
He said, "When?" Uh-oh. I'm starting to get a bad feeling about this.
I said, "When I was talking with you."
"You didn't call me."
"I most certainly did." He picked up my phone, checked my recent calls and said, "My number is ABBC, Mom. You called AABC."
Oh no. Oh my.
I yelled at some stranger.
Someone who was minding his own business when a crazy woman called him to interrogate him as to his whereabouts. And then told him she was his mother.
Aye yi yi....I shouldn't be allowed to have a cell phone. I randomly send text messages to my friends when I'm trying to hit "clear". I once called 911 just by pressing my handbag up against the door while trying to retrieve my keys. The police came to our house that time. And now, I'm using it to terrify strangers, albeit innocently.
Life was much simpler before cell phones.
At lunch today I was reading quietly and tossed my banana peel onto the table when I finished with it. Look how it landed.
I love you, too, Mr. Banana. You're my favorite fruit. After grapefruit. I guess that makes you my second favorite fruit. But you're right up there.
It's late. I'm talking about bananas. Time to get to bed.