Friday, June 20, 2008

Psst...There's a Fly In Your Purse

Miss S. called me a few days ago. She was en route to visit her parents, a mere nine hour drive away, with her two-year-old on board. We have a difficult time connecting, Miss S. and I - our voicemails have grown quite chummy - but it was reasonable of her to think that a nine hour drive might provide some chance of mutual availability.

Well, she was wrong, of course. She left me a message, inviting me to call her back and question her sanity on the whole "nine hours in a car with a toddler" thing.

Before I had a chance to respond, Miss S. called a second time. Or more accurately, her purse called me. Either way, a second message of considerable length was deposited into my voicemail.

After the first few seconds of garbled and distant radio noise, I realized the error at hand. And proceeded to listen.

There is nothing like hearing your highly educated best friend coo and giggle at her two-year-old like a two-year-old. They shared a robust round of "Weee!", mockingbird style (first him, then her, a harmony of echo) - at least I think it was "weeeee!"...It could have been "treeee!" I'd buy that, since they also marveled at trucks passing by, Miss S. apparently having never seen them before herself.

SON: Truck!

MISS S: Look at that truck!

SON: Truck!

MISS S: That's a big truck!

I clamped a hand over my mouth (as if she might hear me, giggling in her purse), stuck around for another round of "Weee!" and quite a lot of Miss S. chuckling to herself, telling the little observer in the back seat that he is silly. Then I started to feel a little dirty and sneaky. So I deleted and dialed Miss S.

Naturally, I caught her during the sole ten minutes of her nine hour drive that she couldn't talk, taking a break at the Chick-Fil-A PlayLand. I didn't have a chance to come clean about my eavesdropping before her son got lost in a tunnel and she had to go.

So consider this my official 'fessing up: You, my friend, were silly. And I was there.

And of course, I should be forgiven completely, because you called me.

2 comments:

Unknown said...

I read this remembering other toddlers calling us from cellphones, and babbling into the phone before hanging up.

My more profound reaction is... Chick-Fil-A's have playlands? Sweet. Too bad mine are too big for an excuse for me to go chasing after them.

Cheers.

sarah said...

Miss S here. Fabulous. I love this.

Thank goodness I didn't oops-call during one of my "Oh My God, child!! Why won't you stop whining and take a damn nap before I lose it completely and drive us into a bridge abutment just to get a moment of peace and quiet!!!!" moments....

there were quite a few of those during those 9 hours, I'll tell you. Glad you caught the riveting truck talk instead!

And the bruise from climbing into that tunnel at Chik-Fil-A? I still have it.