Call Me, Maybe?

Dear friends and family,
I won’t blame you if you never want to call me again. For anyone who’s talked to me on the phone in the last three years, I apologize. Most of our conversations have gone a bit like this:

Ring. Ring.

Me: “Hello?”

You: “Oh, hi Nic, it’s  —

Me: “FAITH, QUIET! MOMMY’S ON THE PHONE! Hello?”

You: (recovering from a busted eardrum) “Hey, it’s (insert your name here). How are you?”

Me: “Oh, good. Faith just [woke up crabby from a nap/ran into a wall/spilled juice on her shirt/is hungry/wants me to play Mr. Handy/tripped trying to walk in my high heels, etc.]”

You: (making a mental note never to have children) “Haha, and how’s Gabby?”

Me: “Oh, she’s good. She right here. (Babyvoice) Say hi Gabby Grace. Say hi to (insert your name here). Do you want to talk to her?”

You: (Pleasedon’tputheronthephone. Pleasedon’tputheronthephone.)

Me: (putting her on the phone)

You: “Oh hey Gabby!!!!”

Gabby: (smiling at the phone)

You: (trying to make small talk with an infant who can’t talk back)

5 minutes later

You: “So what are you guys up to this weekend?”

Me: “DAMMIT, HOWIE!”

You: “Dear God! What?! What happened?!”

Me: “Oh, Howie just threw up all over the floor. FAITH, DID YOU GIVE HOWIE ONE OF YOUR GRAPES AGAIN?”

You: (wondering how you’ll ever hear again with two busted eardrums)

Me: “What was the question again?”

You: “Weekend plans.”

Me: “Well I think we’re going to – ROB, HOWIE’S SCRATCHING AT THE DOOR TO GO POTTY – IF HE PEES ON MY CARPET ONE MORE TIME I SWEAR I’LL CUT OFF HIS –

You: “Is now a bad time? I can call you later.”

Me: “No, this works. Why do you ask?”

Gabby: “Waaaaaaahhhhhhhh!”

Me: “Well crap. She’s hungry again. It’s been nice talking to you.”

You: “Uh huh. I’ll give you a call back sometime soon.”

Your subconscious: No we won’t.

My subconscious: I don’t blame you.