Tuesday, June 23, 2015

Bad Jokes Never Change

I've been trying to get some work done in my office while one of my seniors works a jigsaw puzzle across the room, talking out loud to himself.  Non-stop.  He comes each week for lunch: 3 hours early to work on the puzzle and today he decided to stay two hours after lunch.  I wouldn't mind if my air conditioner wasn't malfunctioning (again) and blowing hot air instead of cool. (It was 70 degrees when I left the room to serve lunch, now it's almost 80).   

As my office begins resembling a steamy jungle with a mumbling, jigsaw puzzle working mosquito in the background, Hubby calls with construction related questions.  (Yeah, the construction that was suppose to happen LAST week while I was on vacation).  Hubby doesn't like the computer.  He thinks sending an e-mail means dictating to me as I sit in front of the screen.  Today, sweat dripping from my brow as my internal temperature began overtaking my sense of humor, I talked him through printing a document from e-mail and faxing it.  However, every time I answered one of Hubby's questions, my senior would call out, "What?  Are you talking to me?" from across the room.

So here I am.  Working to answer Hubby's texts (a method he prefers because he can dictate to the phone), re-booting the air conditioner (it's a long story...but it saves on repair calls), and cursing the work computer (making my senior yell, ""What?  Are you talking to me?")  when my cell phone rings.  I don't recognize the number.  Lately a slew of telemarketers have discovered my cell number.  And yet, for some reason, (impending heat stroke?)  I answer it any way.  A child's voice says,

"Is your refrigerator running?"


I decide the best thing to do is just hang up, without comment.  I block the number because this kid calls frequently, thinking it's her Grandma, no matter how many times I tell her she has the wrong number.  Although the day she left a message demanding, "Grandma bring me jewelry.  Not the junk stuff.  REAL jewelry!"  I was tempted to call back and discuss her manners.  I didn't.  Because I might have been rude.

So as I sit here melting, wondering if my office will ever be cool and quiet again at the same time, I glance at my cell phone.  And a funny thing happens.

I burst our laughing.

How long, I wonder, have bored little kids randomly dialed a number to ask, "Is your refrigerator running?"

Tell you the truth....I was a little tempted to reply, "Do you have Prince Albert in a can?"   But, in my overheated and agitated state, I might've merely lectured that it was her responsibility to catch the fridge and let Prince Albert out.  

Some things in childhood you just have to learn on your own. 


Thom Robinson said...

Hello Kentucky Fried Chicken. How large are your breasts? LOL

savannah said...



hope said...

Hubby and I laughed that had I resorted to the Prince Albert question, she probably would've hung up on me out of confusion. :)

Jerry said...

I'm glad to see that some kids still do that. Actually engaging in harmless fun. I had forgotten that those times existed.