Me: Hi, Cheryl, it's me, I just wanted to touch base with you about getting together this weekend to bring over the baby stuff. How does Saturday late morning, after I get my hair cut can you stop clinging to my leg, honey? What do you want? Your sippy cup? Here you go.
Peanut: (Emits long, high-pitched whining sound.)
Me: OK, sorry about that. (Peanut's real name) is hanging on my leg like an orangutan, and what do you want, this flashlight? You want to play with the flashlight? OK, but be careful...
Peanut: (Puts down sippy cup, picks up flashlight and starts swinging it around.)
Me: So anyway, I'm thinking I'll call you after I get done with my hair appointment and then maybe I can WHAT ARE YOU DOING? Stop whacking the coffee table with that flashlight! Look what you did -- you gave the coffee table a boo-boo! We don't hit the furniture with flashlights!
Peanut: (Gives me a concerned look, bursts into tears, smacks coffee table with flashlight one last time for good measure.)
Me: OK, that's it, you're having a time out! Not you, Cheryl.
2 comments:
I used to laugh when I'd get emails like that. Now I'm the one leaving them. And I hope they're laughing...
Visiting from CHBM.
LOL! I know everyone involved, and even though my son is now 11, have very strong memories of such voice mails. I can just imagine when C. listened to it...
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