When the phone rang last night at just a few minutes before dinner, David answer it while I served up chili. “Yes, she is. May ask who's calling?” My immediate reaction to his inquiry conjured up a mental response to some telemarketer, who I anticipated waited for my voice to say hello.
Imagine my surprise when David handed the phone to little Jess “who is she asked?” “It's Chad?” David replied, not sure if he had heard right and then gave me that look that only us parents can understand.
We let the conversation – that is what little there was. Jess seemed to be doing a lot listening – go on for a minute or two and then i reminded her that dinner was on.
“Chad, I need to go know now for dinner. I will talk with tomorrow. Bye” came out of her mouth very authoritatively and when we questioned her at the dinner table she seemed unphased by the call.
“Who was that Jess?”
“What did he call about?”
“I don't know”
“Well why did you think he called you?”
“Well, he likes Molly and I think Molly was at dance.”
“He called you because Molly was dance?”
“Yeah. He likes to talk.”
Hench, the first phone call from a boy. We knew it would happen one day... eventually. But age seven? Yikes.
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