Although it is Sunday and it is currently 10:28 a.m., I feel like I’m letting some of you down…because, come Monday morning, you will open your work email and NOT find one of my Vehicle Inspection Updates. I know there may be a tear or two shed, so I thought I would appease you by posting something here…. and, thereby, make it ALL BETTER.
Since I’m NOT inspecting vehicles today, I will have to comment on something else then. I think it’s time for another of my Father’s fabulous (I so love that word) stories.
My father very much disliked telemarketers and their persistent phone calls at all hours of the day. He was especially frustrated with the ones that called either at dinnertime or right before the cutoff time of 9:00 p.m. Therefore, he and I had come up with A PLAN. He was very much about PLANS, but only if they made good sense, because PLANS gave you step by step instructions along with a chance to practice your alphabet….Plan A, Plan B, Plan C, etc. (I crack myself up)
Anyway, Our PLAN was that I should call his house, let the phone ring once, hang up, and then call right back and let it ring 4 or more times…. just in case he had to make his way to the telephone (even though I’ve told him time and time again that he was to carry a cordless phone with him at all times, since he was old and slow(ish) and I wouldn’t hear him yell for help at a distance of 800+ miles). Once he answered the phone, we would go through a strict routine of questions, him asking and me answering, as per our PLAN, and there was NEVER a variation.
“Hello?”
“Hello.”
“Who is this?”
“Francine.”
“Francine Who?”
“Ummm, your daughter Francine.”
“I don’t have a daughter named Francine…or do I?”
“It’s the one you found on the doorstep so many years ago. Sweet, adorable, innocent…”
“Yeah, I don’t have a daughter named Francine, especially one with those qualities.”
So, with verification of identities accomplished, we would then go into our normal conversations about books, music, kids, and life in general.
I told this story, in order to preface a birthday card I received from my father for one of my birthdays…. I think. It could have been a Christmas card too….
Here is how it went:
Happy Birthday to Francine – my 2nd cousin Harold’s adopted niece!
It has been so long; my how you’ve grown! How are you? I am fine. Hope you’re having a fun time at the lake. Things sure have changed, haven’t they, since the days (and nights) of a basket on the doorstep. You’re aware, of course, that you’ve always been my most favorite distant non-relative. Keep up the good work!!
Things at the drugstore are only so-so this season. Ardyss, sadly enough, lost both her temper and cool. She hasn’t been the same ever since. But you know how she gets (and keeps…and uses…). If not “on sale” then either “on hold” or “on time”, or, even worse, “on and on”.
Irv and Fragile Mae finally got married – on the very day of their diamond engagement anniversary. Fragile Mae likes to quip that, if they ever have a daughter, they’ll name her “Patience”. Irv just sucks on his dentures and tries to smile.
The Wantsit twins are in trouble with the Law again: They were caught in broad daylight, committing indolence. No wonder, with Ardyss for a mother!
Well, that’s about all the excitement from here for now, but I expect that, come your next birthday, there’ll be at least a quarter dozen things to report. So, continue unencumbered by ill health, may all your stockings on the fireplace be full of goodies, do birthday cake – and may all your dreams be while you’re asleep.
With Love from your adoptive Uncle’s 2nd Cousin
Ohhhh, How I giggle at his humor!! I think this is where I get my silliness…what do you think??? Hehehe
Obviously,
My Father’s Daughter
Until I started paying a lot of money to keep my phone from ringing (to avoid said telemarketers), I used to enjoy messing with their minds. One caller from a siding company was told that I lived in a tent, but the best one was way-back-when in the days when sales for long-distance phone service were incessant. After the long spiel, I apologized to the lady on the other end, explaining to her that I was sorry, but I didn't have a phone. As I was hanging up, I could hear her laughing her head off on the other end.
ReplyDeleteOn a sad, but still funny note, my own dear old dad carried his cordless phone around with him so religiously that it even followed him to the funeral home when he died. When we went to make the arrangements and bring the clothes to bury him in, the funeral director gave us the phone handset back, as he had found it dutifully placed in dad's shirt pocket.