Mom called me the other day:
“Hi, Stef. How are you?”
“Fine, Mom. What’s up?” I’d just finished mowing the grass and I was trying to get all the grass and twigs out of my hair… how does she always know when I’m taking a bath?!
“Oh, nothing much. Can I talk to Brian?” She sounded really cheerful. I should have been more suspicious. We don’t really call to chit-chat. We talk in person and we text. Besides, in my family we all jump and lunge for the phone whenever it rings because there’s usually been some disaster… we try to spare each other the dreaded “Ring of Doom.” You’ll notice though, even in the tub I answer the damn phone, because who knows what disaster might be happening this time.
“He’s downstairs…. what do you need, Mom?” shampoo was foaming towards my eyes.
“Oh, nothing….” really cheerful. Like the time she called me at work and chatted for five minutes before asking me if I thought I could leave a little early and take her to the emergency room because one of the llamas had head butted her and broken her nose. (See… me? I might have led with that little bit of info.) “I just did something stupid. Don’t worry. I’ll call Brian.”
“Ummmm… okay?” She’d already hung up. I finished washing my hair because I figured I’d need to get the shampoo out of my hair if we were headed to the ER anyway. Besides, she was talking pretty coherently, so I figured I had a few minutes.
I texted Brian from the tub:
Me: What stupid thing did Mom do?
Brian: Cut an extension cord
Actually… it wasn’t as bad as some of her phone calls…. “Hi Stef….. I’m locked in a dog cage and I can’t get out because the there’s a big dog outside the cage and the neighbors are vacuuming and can’t seem to hear me yelling. Could you come get me?”
That happened back when Brian and I were first dating. He still married me… even after I yelled at him to grab his shoes we had to go get my mom because she was locked in the neighbor’s dog cage… again. Seriously…. he had plenty of warning… he has no excuse now.
Text to Mom:
Me: Mom… WTH?!
Mom: I was clipping a path so I could shut this door and the extension wire was in the middle of the grass. A little shocking is all… oh.. and the clippers have a chunk out of them, but the handle has plastic, so I’m fine.
Mom: You know I provide lots of material for your blogs.
And she does. Soooo much material.
4 thoughts on “it’s just 110”
Stephanie, This is hilarious. I feel like this is the stuff that happens in my family all the time. You are definitely going to make are community “lively”, haha
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Tell Sharon hi! I am glad her handles were plastic. This was a pretty amusing story since things turned out OK. I think you could write sitcoms. You have a comedic story telling flair.
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Thank you, Nancy! So many of our stories are funny… later…. much later… 🙃
Oh Geeze, Angela! I hope we can be LESS entertaining in FL!