For moms, talking on the phone is a luxury. Similar to showering. We don’t get to do it often and when we do, it’s a complete disaster. Recently a friend joked that if it wasn’t for voicemail, we wouldn’t be friends. This got me thinking about how infrequently I chat with friends verses their voicemail and how insane my messages have become . . .
“Hey, sorry I couldn’t pickup the last time you called. I only had one free hand. The baby stuck her pacifier in the toilet. Again. This time Sutton tried to fish it out with her princess wand. I’ve told her a thousand times, dress-up clothes aren’t tools! I don’t care if she wants to be a “princess/handyman” when she grows-up, I’m over tulle in my toilet. I wanted to ring you back, but we had a small crises with the blocks. Quinn tried to stick one up his nose and it started bleeding. Again. It got all over the carpet and now I’m thinking I should just bag the taupe carpet and go with red? Would that be odd? Anyway, I’d love to try to catch-up but can’t chat tonight. I’ve got a meeting for room moms at Sutton’s school. Yikes, that reminds me, I have to bake cookies for the group. Why did I sign-up for that again? Really, we don’t need cookies, we need wine! I may try to text you while I’m in the carpool line, but they really frown upon using Smart Phones while waiting. They have really cracked down ever since that very “UN-smart” mom accidentally hit the mini van in front of her while texting. Gotta run, Sutton just let the mail man in. Again. Why does she insist on inviting him to a tea party every afternoon? Call me back. GET THAT OUT OF YOUR SISTERS EAR . . . BEEP!!!!”
Clearly, I can’t be trusted with a phone. So, I’ve decided to stop returning phone calls. What’s the point? Anyone receiving a voicemail from my number could use it against me in a court of law. I just can’t chat and that’s final. Thanks to my tykes, I plan on returning all calls in twenty years . . . roughly the amount of time it will take to have all my children graduated from high school.