Just because the phone is ringing doesn’t mean I’m home.
If I call you and leave a message, I’m very upset if you don’t call me right back.
If you call me and leave a message and I don’t call you right back. I will probably forget so don’t be upset.
Landline rings, I ignore it. Cell phone rings two seconds later, I ignore it and feel resentment towards whoever is “tracking me down”.
What can the word “ring” mean to the Boy? The phone doesn’t ring. It plays popular tunes associated with the caller.
Here are some of my “ring” tones.
“Amazed” by Lonestar-Beautiful Bride (our Wedding song)
“Rehab”- all my friends back east
“Sexy Back”- for when I call myself
“Like a Virgin”-Grandma
“Glory Glory Hallelujah” – My Agent
The other day the boy and I were in the car and “Amazed” by Lonestar came on the radio. He went nuts because I didn’t pick up the phone. “Mommy Ring, Daddy!” he yelled.
I remember Rotary phones and that’s beginning to date me.
I remember not having to dial the darn area code every time I make a call.
I remember my family’s number was HIckory4-4789. What the heck does HIckory mean?
I have no tolerance for people who drive and talk on their cell phone.
Imagine Rotary Dial Texting. It’s easy if you try.
Why do people still say “Are you there? Pick up!” when they are leaving a message? Don’t they know that those answering machines don’t exist anymore?
I constantly drive and talk on my cell phone.
I don’t like when I’ve waited in line and the employee answers the phone. They look at me like I should understand that the customer that stayed home and dialed their phone is more important than the one who showered and dressed and drove all the way to the store. I stay in line and call them with my cell.
I used to worry about keeping the cell phone between my legs as I drive. Now, that I see that the Boy is ten times smarter than I am, I make all my cell phone calls while sitting on the microwave with all the Wi-Fi antennas pointing at me.
My choice in careers has exacerbated my phone issues.
I hear the first ring and I’m thrilled by the possibilities. I see on the caller ID that it is an old dear friend or loved one or wife, my heart sinks. When I see that it’s my agent, my heart leaps out of my chest.
When I am on hold for a job it gets worse. Every five minutes I’m checking the phone. If I’m home alone I stare at it intensely and try to conjure up magical powers to make it ring.
I wish there was a phone dependency hotline. I would call it constantly.
I apologize to all my friends and family who have fallen victim to my terrible phone etiquette over the years.
Simply put, I hope my Boy doesn’t inherit any of my bad habits. I need to teach my child better than myself!