Act I
Dan and I went to a fund raiser for a fellow Politico last week. It‘s wonderful to see old friends but I should’ve known that I would be asked for more than just my admission. I found myself all wrapped up in the ‘volunteer frenzy’ and totally volunteered to make 100 phone calls for the campaign from my house (because I have all the time in the world while I’m home with Ella, go ahead and laugh at me now). It’s pretty easy since Dan is home today sick. Ella is pestering him to play tea party and I am getting lots of phone calls made.
Act II
Ella has learned a few ‘choice’ words from Dan and I. Her favorite one is unmistakable; she says it clear as day and totally in context. She is fiddling with the bottom of her toy vacuum, she has a pretend screw driver and out of her angelic lips we hear “Dammit! Heavy sigh Dammit.” Usually, we try not to make it a big deal, we figure she’ll either forget it eventually or we’ll have to have a talk about “words we can ONLY use at home”
Act III
I am on the phone with nice ol’ Mrs. SweetPepper-ButterPie who’s about 75 and not sure about a political yard sign in her yard. She says I’d better call and check with Mr. SweetPepper-ButterPie and ask him, he’s down at the Church, and I’m writing down the number as I’m saying “Thank you very much Mrs. SweetPepper-ButterPie… oh yes, ma’am I’ll keep warm, you too… ba-bye.” I dial the church and ask for Mr. SweetPepper-ButterPie and the woman says “You mean Pastor SweetPepper-ButterPie?” I say “oh, yes Ma’am.” The voice of James Earl Jones with a dash of molasses mixed up into it gets on the phone and I am explaining about how I talked to Mrs. SweetPepper-ButterPie minutes ago and she said I should call him at work and we were just wondering about the yard sign and the candidate is a real nice fella and I’m doing my best to remember all my manners and I am rambling and then I decide to just stop talking and wait to see what he thinks of this crazy lady on the phone and I bet you see where this is going? As I force my self to just. shut. up... Ella is in the background on my end of the phone working on her vacuum again and she is yelling “Dammit dammit dammit! C’mere bacume! Dammit!”... !! ...Where is my dear husband? In the bathroom howling with laughter.
the end
There will be no encores - we are all in time out
6 comments:
This actually happened yesterday - Dan is at work today.
Murphy's Law strikes again.
Are you all STILL in time out from yesterday, then?
Oh, yes, I've sentenced myself to a very long time out, where I can do nothing but sit in the big comfy 'time out chair'. No playing, no running around just a very long quiet reflective time out for mom. (I wish)
I'm cracking up at Ella saying "C'mere bacume! Dammit!" I know you don't want her to swear but honestly, that IS kinda cute!
Wish I had a big comfy time out chair, maybe one of those huge Papasan chairs. When I feel my blood pressure rising I could announce that I need a time out and go sit quietly in it. Yeah, that would be great.
Is dammit really a swear word? I have had to change my fondness for muttering 'shit' to a much more cryptic 'shi---eet in the wind!' when I have remembered the presence of small ears. Now I actually think 'sheet in the wind' :) Maybe you should start changing it to 'Dammit ... with a stick!' .. or something ;)
Thank you very much for the contribution.
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