Friday, August 04, 2006

I love them, I really do but...

Scene: I've finally gotten situated after waking up from a nap. I hang up the phone.

Dad: "I couldn't understand what you wanted."
Me: "Charcoal?"
Andrew: "Dave and Sarah are coming over at 7:30."
Mom: "We won't have eaten by 7:30."
Dad: "You don't need charcoal."
Mom: "The chicken probably won't even be done by then."
Me: "Well that's what Andrew told me. That's why Mom and Andrew told me to call you."
Dad: "Well, which phone did you call me on?"
Me, who remember, just woke up from a nap on my first day back from the hospital: "Wait a second. When are Dave and Sarah coming over?"
Andrew: "I told them 7:30."
Mom: "We probably won't be done eating."
Me: "I just got up."
Andrew: "Dave said he'd call first. Can't I just return the Netflix later?"
Me: "They're right there, can't you pop them in the mail on your way to... where are you going again?"
Dad: "Which phone did you call me on?"
Andrew: "There's only one movie here, where's the other?"
Me, holding up the regular ol' phone next to me: "This one, but I don't really have the vocal power to push it."
Dad: "No, it was phone staticy... You have charcoal anyway."
Me: "Isn't Ron Burgundy in the basement? Where we watched it?"
Mom: "Are we going to be done with dinner at 7:30? I don't think so. Should they be coming over then?"
Andrew: "Do I have to do this now? Where's the third? I really have to go."
Me: "We've lost the third. I'll pay for it. Please do it. Please call Dave and Sarah, I don't want to have them and dinner overlap. And I don't know what the deal is with the charcoal or the phone. Waaaaaaaaaah!" [tentatively hold fists up to eyes, then peek out from behind them to see if my ploy for sympathy has worked. It hasn't. Put hands back until everyone goes away.]

Recovery. So relaxing.

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