My Friday Commute

My cellphone rang as I was in the middle of South Street trying to turn. That never happens. My phone rarely rings. I frantically reached for my purse and tried to get it open. I knew that it must be an emergency because we are not a family of phone talkers. My husband, myself and the two oldest kids have cellphones and we never use all of our minutes in a month. Not even close. No one has my cellphone number but family. It is posted prominently next to the phone at home so the kids can call me if there is an emergency.

"Hello?" I said.

"Mom?" said Frank.

"Yes?!"

"I was looking at this Build A Bear catalog and I found one that just costs $32 and I wondered if you would buy it for me."

"Can we talk about this tonight?"

"Oh sure, sure," he said.

"Ok. Have a good day, hon."

Thankfully I didn't have a car accident while having that conversation.

5 girls in the family and it is the boy who uses the phone to call and chat about nothing?!

I turned the volume on the stereo back up and Anna started complaining about Bob Dylan again. I told her that we were going to listen to Bob Dylan every morning until she would admit that he was brilliant and talented. Ha! (I do get that he is an acquired taste. I was 35 before I really got him.)

"Even if he can write, he can't sing. Why didn't he just have his voice electronically altered?" she asked.

Kids these days, I swear.

"Ask your vocal music teacher what he thinks about Bob Dylan's singing, ok?"

"I will! I won't see him today, but I'll ask him next week."

"And while you're at it, ask your vocal music teacher what he thinks about electronically altered voices."

"Ok."

After dropping her off I just turned the stereo up even louder and thankfully no one called to interrupt me.