Forgive my profanity...
but I just answered the phone at work and it was my husband.
Me: "Hi, how are you?"
Him, wailing child in the background: "Good. Hold on a minute."
One of my boys: "Mama! Mommee! Mommeeeee!"
Me, heart skipping several beats, sure child had severed his head or at least a finger: "Jude? Simon?"
They sound remarkably alike on the phone while wailing heartbrokenly.
Jude (turns out it was Jude), hiccuping and sobbing and gasping: "Mama? Elmo!"
(No, Elmo is fine. Mommy is about to have a stroke but Elmo is just an opening conversational gambit.)
Me: "Cookie Monster!"
Jude, calming a bit, gulping and huffing for air, choking back sobs: "Elmo!"
Me, realizing at last that he is just fine and I do not need to rush home like a bat out of hell, but rethinking any plan I ever had to send him to kindergarten and get a full-time job: "Cookie Monster!"
and so on...conversation about his day at school. Seems he had "manky chee" for lunch and "Nemo" (goldfish crackers) for snack and did indeed go for a walk. He was tired, and yes, he was getting ready for bed.
My husband, taking the phone from slightly calmer Jude: "We were just calling to say hi. Want to say good-bye to Mama, Jude?"
Jude, immediately commencing wailing again: "Bye-bye, Mama!" Then in a little broken whisper, "Bye-bye, Mommeeee...." Hiccup.
If my husband ever does that to me again, I will come straight home and bash him over the head with a frying pan, I swear to God. Ohmigod, the guilt, the GUILT.
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