Phone high jinks—or what goes around comes around

Phone High Jinks - Or What Goes Around Comes Around 
©Lisa Barker

I finally got my kids back.  You know how the minute you pick up the phone the kids are there?  “Mom, I need to know the meaning of life and I need to know NOW!!"

If they aren’t begging for your undivided attention, then they are marching around like a Sousa band in the background.  The net result is a phone conversation peppered with covert parental threats to “Keep it down or else!" or the injection of inappropriate bodily sounds from the children every time you pause to try to think straight.

“Hi, Mary?"  The band strikes up, the wind section heralding the commencement of the parade, and here comes the baton twirler…

“I wanted to know if you knew…Put that down!…how many cookies were needed for the…Put it down NOW…bake sale?"  Baton twirler scoots just out of reach as cymbals crash and drum major approaches with question that must be answered now!

“Six dozen?…Not now…just a minute!…No, hi, sorry, Mary…the kids…"

“PLEEEEEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, MOMMY?"

“Yes, I said, yes, already…No, Mary, I’m sorry, not you, um, I mean, yes, I can bake six dozen…"  CRASH!  The band is building up for the big finale.  Whatever you just agreed to with one of the kids happens to result in spilled milk accompanied by a lot of crying.

“Mom, the dog is eating the cookies you just baked..!"

“Um, no, Mary, it won’t be any [BELCH!] trouble…What’s the matter with you? [LAUGHTER] at all."

“Mom, Johnny just snorted milk out his nose—look he’s doing it again!"

“Uh, Mary, [SNORRRRRT!] I’ll have to get [PBBBBBBBBBFT!] back to you…"

So that’s a pretty typical phone call in my house.  That’s why it was hysterical the day my eldest daughter was on the phone excusing herself from a 4-H meeting.  It happened to be right in the middle of what I call ‘rush hour.’  5PM to 7PM in my house is noisy and carefully orchestrated chaos.  In laymen’s terms, it’s dinnertime.

So my poor daughter attempts to make this phone call right at ground zero—the kitchen—where mom is cooking, toddlers are whining, siblings are all placing last minute bids on mom’s shot nerves, the cats are blocking off the exits lest I escape without breaking my neck tripping over them and filling their bowl and the dog is dancing in place because he needs to go outside. 

My daughter very carefully and succinctly says:  My sister and I can’t attend the meeting tonight because—THERE’S POOP ON THE FLOOR!  YOU BETTER NOT GET POOP ALL OVER THE PLACE!

That was me.  She was sooooooo red with embarrassment.  I’m not sure she even finished leaving the message.  She just sort of shrank away and died, mortified.

Me?  I couldn’t stop laughing.  It takes awhile, but eventually we moms get even—and without any planning.  Someday my daughter will be able to look back on this and laugh.  Until then, “I’m laughing WITH you honey, not at you!"

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