[Tweet “Moms, do you suffer from this awkward problem too?”]
This is how phone calls happen in my house now.
Me: Hey, kiddo, Mommy needs to make a quick phone call so don’t interrupt, K?
Kiddo: Uh…yup. Ok, Mom.
Me: Ok, here I go…making my phone call…so…don’t interrupt…remember that…K?
Kiddo: not listening
(74 seconds later)
Kiddo: …I wonder what my mom is doing RIGHT NOW? I wonder if she knows how fast a gazelle runs. Maybe right now is the best time to run through the house screaming my head off. Or maybe I am hungry. Am I hungry? Totally…I should go ask mom about gazelles, an apple, tell her I have to poop, jump up and down, and start making loud siren noises.
Me: Hey! Hi! I have two minutes! MMmhmm…uh-huh…oh yeah?
Kiddo: WHEEEWOOO! WHEEEWOO! WHEEEEWOOO!
Me: (to the person on the phone) Ack! Hold on…(now whisper screaming at Kiddo) HEY! I AM ON THE PHONE! STOP RUNNING AROUND THE HOUSE SCREAMING LIKE A FIRE ENGINE! (to the person on the phone) Ha! Sorry about that! What were you saying?
Kiddo: (quietly walks out of the room, but returns with no pants) Mom! MOM! MMOOOOMMM!!!! MUM, MOM, MMMMMOOOOMMM!!!!
Me: (giving the worlds biggest eye roll followed by the worst impression of a mean face you ever saw.)
Kiddo: (laughing at me)
Me: (turning red with frustration and now mouthing silent threats while pointing wildly at the door) GET OUT!!!
Kiddo: I have to poop.
Me: (biggest most annoyed sigh ever) HHHhhhh…do you mind if I call you back? Thanks…I know…me too…Ha! Ok…two minutes…Uh-huh…OK…Yup…Bye.
(18 seconds later in the bathroom with Kiddo)
Kiddo: I don’t have to poop anymore.
Me: (Blood pressure just rose to 6,574 points)
And that is why you can’t call me on the phone and expect any modicum of adult conversation. Unless you like spontaneous absurdist theater, in which case call me anytime.