Here’s A Quarter…
I feel badly for Beth sometimes. She loooves to talk on the phone. Loves, loves, loves it. Me, I hate it. The only thing worse than having the phone ring is being on it already when another call beeps through on call-waiting. So I feel badly for her because our telephone conversations are, well, nothing to call home about.
Here’s a transcript of one of our recent calls from my end:
Ring!
Hello? Hey.
…
Yeah.
…
Okay.
…
Okay.
…
Okay
…
No.
…
Okay.
…
Okay.
…
Yeah, I know.
…
Okay.
…
Okay.
…
Ha ha ha.
…
Okay.
…
Okay.
…
All right, bye. Love y–
…
Okay.
…
Okay.
…
Okay.
…
Okay, I’ll talk to y–
…
Okay.
…
Okay.
…
Okay.
…
Okay.
…
All right, by–
…
Okay.
…
Okay.
…
Bye.
Hang up.
I honestly wonder sometimes why she married me … and why she keeps calling.
Four words to describe your perspective of our phone conversations:
Mission: Hang it up.
The really sad commentary here is that you called me about 30 seconds after you read this entry … and you’re calling me RIGHT NOW.
You guys *do* know we can hear you, right?
SSshhh!!!
(listens)
Beth, did you hear that?
Man, those people who eavesdrop are nosey. Maybe we should talk quieter?