The conversation I am about to relay to you took place over a remarkable short time span (despite the illusion that it could have taken much longer) of approximately 9 (nine) minutes:
(following general greetings and explanation of now heavenly iPhone our conversation went something like this - please note that I had #3 and#4, who are 5 and 1 respectively, home)
ME: Could you hold on for just a moment (#4 is now wailing like a police siren in my ear, and therefore her ear; I did not get her name because of the sirens)? I am so sorry, but I'll get her some milk, and then she'll feel better. I don't think she feels too great!
HER: oh, sure I understand I have children too!
ME: Thank you. So, as I was saying, did my husband happen to purchase the insurance plan?
(enter 5 y/o begging for food... again ; picture my hand in the universal stop sign, mouthing that I am busy)
Him: Can I get something to eat? Some cheese? some crackers? I don't want grapes... how about a cookie? Why not...
ME: I'm sorry, again. (covering phone) No cookies. You may have cheese... (going to fridge, getting cheese... opening). OK (I say to Mrs. Dallas)
HER: (she is talking but I hear nothing as an entire fleet of tanks now rolls down the hardwood floors into the kitchen, followed by the grinning, cheese-filled five year old. He is quite proud of his new army, and rolls it the other way... and back again... the house is shaking from the noise - we've exceeded tolerable decibels)
ME: I am sooo sorry, but I seem to be having a little trouble communicating with my 5 y/o!
HER: oh, I know all about that! My oldest is hard-headed!
ME: Well, I almost put this one out at the curb last week with a sign that said 'Free to Good Home'! (we are both laughing and exchange a few more kid stories - we could have lunch!)
HER: Do you want to express the new phone?
ME: Yes, and yes, you may get out a hamster (to #3).
HER: Oh, you have hamsters?
ME: Yep. Three dwarf hamsters, and two dogs. And the four kids.
HER: Are the hamsters all one gender?
ME: (chuckling) Oh, no. We thought we had three males, only to discover that one was female when she had a litter... and ate them; she then had another litter, which by the way was fathered by her brother. Funny thing, all the incestuous offspring have died off, and we have the original three, separated of course!
HER: Wow! Do you ever put them together?
ME: No! Except recently the boys did, and thought it hysterical that they were 'wrestling'! I had to intervene rapidly!! (we laugh together... we are thinking that perhaps an afternoon of shopping would be great! I am now walking down the hallway to the office where #3 has shut the door and is being V-E-R-Y quiet; #4 is banging on the door...)
ME: Oh, my, honey!! You can't do that to the hammie!! Oh, heavens, Aidan! Don't push him!!! STOP!! You're hurting him! Here give it to me... give me the whole thing... the cage, baby... not the truck! Oh, Good LORD! (I take the safari truck with accessorizing cage featuring the trauma of the day: Fuzzy is stuck halfway in, halfway out of the cage. He doesn't appear to be too thrilled with wearing the safari truck's cage. At this point as I carry the hamster and said cage down the hall, I remember that Mrs. Dallas is on the line, thinking we are crazy! I now explain what has happened)
ME.... I shouldn't be surprised after my house was broken into, for the third time, this morning!
HER: Oh, MY!! Is the hamster OK?
ME: Oh, yea, look - he's unstuck! I'll go put him away!
HER: ... You'll just mark the box and return blahblahblah...
(enter said 5 y/o AGAIN bawling at the top of his lungs about having nearly killed his hammie)
ME: It's OK, sweetie (I coo); Mommy put him back in his cage. I think he needs a little rest, OK? (now #4 enters the kitchen... it's like a crying parade! I bend to pick her up, and she snags my car keys, unbeknownst to me)
HER:... and the postage will be covered already; just be sure to return your old phone in 10 days... is that your house alarm????
(the car alarm is now deafeningly blaring in the garage - the baby has pushed the panic button. She is now screaming from fright, drops the keys, and hides in my shoulder! I am now hysterically laughing! Or crying! I'm not sure which!!)
ME: No Ma'am! The baby set off the car alarm!!!
HER: Is there anything I can help you with???? (padded cell, therapist, full-time nanny???)
ME: You could come be my full-time nanny?!?! (silence from her) Nope. Just need a lot of Jesus and DIET COKE!!!
I know what she did on her break: she took that phone conversation 'which may be recorded for quality assurance', and replayed that bad boy for the whole office!!! Now everyone in Dallas thinks this poor Texas girl is stuck in Looneyville, Arkansas breeding incestuous hamster offspring, or WORSE, drinking Diet Coke (spiked, no doubt) and belongs to some weird religious cult centered around sirens!! Heaven help me!
From now on I'm using email.
2 comments:
I'm serious... you need a column. That way you could get PAID for all of the crazy things that happen to you. :) That was so hilarious. :)
I would LOVE to have a column and get paid to embarrass myself and humiliate my children - I better get on it and publish before they write a tell all book! Do you know how one goes about 'having a column'?
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