Keeping House
I present you with a couple of recent conversations:
**********************
CHILD: (answering phone) Hi.
ME: Hi, honey, it's Mama. Is your dad awake?
CHILD: I don't know.
ME: Well, can you find out?
CHILD: I would have to ask him.
ME: Yes. Could you go upstairs and find out?
CHILD: (yelling) DAD!
ME: No, no. Go upstairs and find out, and if he's asleep don't wake him up.
CHILD: Well, I would have to put the phone down.
ME: Yes. Put the phone down, go upstairs, and see if your dad's awake.
(Child puts phone down. Pause.)
CHILD: He's asleep.
ME: Ok, I need you to take a message.
CHILD: Ok.
ME: So you'll need a pencil and a piece of paper.
CHILD: Ok.
ME: Do you have them?
CHILD: No.
ME: Well, go get them.
CHILD: I would have to go upstairs.
ME: Well, go upstairs and get a pencil and a piece of paper.
CHILD: I'll have to switch phones.
ME: Yes. Switch phones.
(Child hangs up)
(I call back)
CHILD: Hello.
ME: You hung up on me.
CHILD: Oh.
ME: When you hang up one phone before you pick up the other, it disconnects the conversation.
CHILD: Oh.
ME: Do you have the pencil and the piece of paper?
CHILD: Yes.
ME: Ok, here's the message: I need you to tell your dad that if he sees a message in his email that looks like it comes from Adelphia, and tells him to click on an attachment, it's not from Adelphia, it's a virus, and he needs to not click on it. He's got to get this message before he gets on the computer.
CHILD: How about if I write "not click"?
ME: Well, he won't know what the hell that means. You need to make sure he gets this information before he gets on the computer.
CHILD: OK.
(Later, at dinner)
ME: Honey, did you give your dad the message?
CHILD: No.
ME: Why?
CHILD: He didn't go on the computer.
ME: Ok. Here's the deal. You are not allowed to answer the phone unless you're going to be trustworthy with the messages.
CHILD: Ok.
(Later, at home, I discover the message, which is a tiny piece of paper reading "not click," on the floor near the computer. The deep irony here is that the child is now being taken to an awards ceremony, where he is to receive an award for being intelligent.)
*******************************
(Sam and I are in the basement, dividing stuff into piles -- throw out, keep, give away)
SAM: We should probably keep these. These are Avon awards belonging to an Avon lady who lived at the YMCA and didn't have room for them, so we're keeping them.
ME: Yes, but now she's probably dead; can't we get rid of them?
SAM: No, I saw her on the street a few months ago.
ME: A few months ago? Really?
SAM: Well, it was at least in the last couple of years.
ME: Ok, we can put them in the attic, and then 20 years from now I can throw them out.
SAM: Maybe we can just take some of them.
ME: No, what if she actually does show up, what are we going to tell her? Here's one of your awards, but we threw all the rest out? If we're keeping them we'd better keep them.
(I carry them over to the "keep" pile, but decide to look at one, to see what they are)
ME: Oh, my god! Oh, my god! These are awful! I'm putting porcelain crap in my attic for some Avon lady who's probably dead! I am SO blogging this.
(Later, that evening, I'm on the computer, trying to figure out exactly how much money we could get for 7 Gold Castle plates and a Noritake bowl)
SAM: I think we should probably throw out the Avon awards.
ME: Fine by me, but let's just see how much they're getting on eBay.....Whoa! Those pieces of crap are pulling in $70 apiece! And the ones we're holding are mint in box!
(The decision is made to put the pieces of crap in the attic; should the Avon lady show up, she gets them back; should she not, I sell them in 20 years for shockingly large amounts of money. Also, the agreement is made that I'm STILL blogging this.)
(More conversation, the next morning)
ME: Honey, when you saw the Avon lady on the street, were you and I married at the time?
SAM: Yes...well, I'm pretty sure I saw her on the street in the last 10 years.
ME: I don't know about that. Cause when we got together, you told me this story, and you said then that you'd seen her on the street in the last couple of years, and that was 10 years ago, and you have never come home, in all this time, and said, Hey! Guess what! I saw the Avon lady on the street! So I'm guessing here that you saw the Avon lady on the street about 12 to 15 years ago.
(And I'm still blogging this.)
**********************
CHILD: (answering phone) Hi.
ME: Hi, honey, it's Mama. Is your dad awake?
CHILD: I don't know.
ME: Well, can you find out?
CHILD: I would have to ask him.
ME: Yes. Could you go upstairs and find out?
CHILD: (yelling) DAD!
ME: No, no. Go upstairs and find out, and if he's asleep don't wake him up.
CHILD: Well, I would have to put the phone down.
ME: Yes. Put the phone down, go upstairs, and see if your dad's awake.
(Child puts phone down. Pause.)
CHILD: He's asleep.
ME: Ok, I need you to take a message.
CHILD: Ok.
ME: So you'll need a pencil and a piece of paper.
CHILD: Ok.
ME: Do you have them?
CHILD: No.
ME: Well, go get them.
CHILD: I would have to go upstairs.
ME: Well, go upstairs and get a pencil and a piece of paper.
CHILD: I'll have to switch phones.
ME: Yes. Switch phones.
(Child hangs up)
(I call back)
CHILD: Hello.
ME: You hung up on me.
CHILD: Oh.
ME: When you hang up one phone before you pick up the other, it disconnects the conversation.
CHILD: Oh.
ME: Do you have the pencil and the piece of paper?
CHILD: Yes.
ME: Ok, here's the message: I need you to tell your dad that if he sees a message in his email that looks like it comes from Adelphia, and tells him to click on an attachment, it's not from Adelphia, it's a virus, and he needs to not click on it. He's got to get this message before he gets on the computer.
CHILD: How about if I write "not click"?
ME: Well, he won't know what the hell that means. You need to make sure he gets this information before he gets on the computer.
CHILD: OK.
(Later, at dinner)
ME: Honey, did you give your dad the message?
CHILD: No.
ME: Why?
CHILD: He didn't go on the computer.
ME: Ok. Here's the deal. You are not allowed to answer the phone unless you're going to be trustworthy with the messages.
CHILD: Ok.
(Later, at home, I discover the message, which is a tiny piece of paper reading "not click," on the floor near the computer. The deep irony here is that the child is now being taken to an awards ceremony, where he is to receive an award for being intelligent.)
*******************************
(Sam and I are in the basement, dividing stuff into piles -- throw out, keep, give away)
SAM: We should probably keep these. These are Avon awards belonging to an Avon lady who lived at the YMCA and didn't have room for them, so we're keeping them.
ME: Yes, but now she's probably dead; can't we get rid of them?
SAM: No, I saw her on the street a few months ago.
ME: A few months ago? Really?
SAM: Well, it was at least in the last couple of years.
ME: Ok, we can put them in the attic, and then 20 years from now I can throw them out.
SAM: Maybe we can just take some of them.
ME: No, what if she actually does show up, what are we going to tell her? Here's one of your awards, but we threw all the rest out? If we're keeping them we'd better keep them.
(I carry them over to the "keep" pile, but decide to look at one, to see what they are)
ME: Oh, my god! Oh, my god! These are awful! I'm putting porcelain crap in my attic for some Avon lady who's probably dead! I am SO blogging this.
(Later, that evening, I'm on the computer, trying to figure out exactly how much money we could get for 7 Gold Castle plates and a Noritake bowl)
SAM: I think we should probably throw out the Avon awards.
ME: Fine by me, but let's just see how much they're getting on eBay.....Whoa! Those pieces of crap are pulling in $70 apiece! And the ones we're holding are mint in box!
(The decision is made to put the pieces of crap in the attic; should the Avon lady show up, she gets them back; should she not, I sell them in 20 years for shockingly large amounts of money. Also, the agreement is made that I'm STILL blogging this.)
(More conversation, the next morning)
ME: Honey, when you saw the Avon lady on the street, were you and I married at the time?
SAM: Yes...well, I'm pretty sure I saw her on the street in the last 10 years.
ME: I don't know about that. Cause when we got together, you told me this story, and you said then that you'd seen her on the street in the last couple of years, and that was 10 years ago, and you have never come home, in all this time, and said, Hey! Guess what! I saw the Avon lady on the street! So I'm guessing here that you saw the Avon lady on the street about 12 to 15 years ago.
(And I'm still blogging this.)
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