Tuesday, September 15, 2009

I'm Gonna Kick Yo Ass!





I hear crickets chirping, leapt up from my computer and sprinted around the house looking for the pesky noisemaker, finally finding the source coming from the dirty clothes hamper.

“Hello! I mean, this is Rhonda.” That is one of the problems when you work from home in your pajamas. The professional voice is a balancing act and often one forgotten.

“Who is this?” This was a very angry voice. At first I was relieved because it wasn’t a bill collector.

“Uh, Rhonda. Who’s this?”

“Well Rhoda, if you don’t stop texting me, I’m going come over to kick yo ass from here to kingdom come!”

WTF?

She signed off. Kingdom come? Where the hell is that anyway? If it’s by the beach, then maybe this is a weird sign I’m finally getting that lovely ocean shack.

Then I thought maybe this was a mistake, this person had clearly dialed the wrong number.
One hour later, I hear the chirping again. I frantically run around and find my phone in the tampon drawer.

“Hello… I mean, this is Rhonda.”


(BTW, this was NOT my choice of ring tones, but my 6-year old twin girls; despite the fact they feed live crickets to their many reptiles.)

‘Okay, lady, I gotta another text! This one reads: “I love you daddy! Now who the fuck is this? Are you talking ‘bout my man bitch! Plus, you keep interrupting my dinner."



After a brief moment of shock, then trying to imagine what this person looked like, I responded; “I’m sorry… there has to be a mistake.”

“I’ll say. How about I come over there and shove your head up yo ass and we call that a mistake!”
“Actually I’d rather go to kingdom come.”
“Stop texting me!”


I looked at the number and soon realized it was one digit off from a friend’s number whom I text a lot. But never “I love you daddy.” And also, I really shouldn’t put numbers in my phone without wearing my reading glasses. Honestly, god knows who I call or text these days.

The irritated woman continued. I have to say she was really over reacting. So she got a couple texts. It’s not like they said, “Hey, you big fat ho, your man has syphilis and sleeps with every hobag in L.A.!”

She sighs, now it says, “daddy we love you more than mom.”

"Oh. Look. I am so sorry. I just realized what’s going on here. I have kids, and they sometimes grab my phone when I’m not looking and text their father, but really they are texting the last number I used.”

“I gotcha… it’s the kids. Well that would explain why there are no spaces between the words. Plus my kids don’t have a dad, so you can see why I might get a little pissed. I thought some slut was coming after MY daddy.”

“Oh, no no no, I am not that person. I would never do that. I mean I did it once, but that was a long time ago. Anyway, I promise to take you number off right now.”

“Please do! Immediately. This is driving me crazy, girl! Who are you tyring to call anyway?”

“Jamie. She’s my best friend. We go way back, yunno, the kind of friend who will drop anything if you are in trouble and in fact when I was having a mild breakdown…”
“Okay, okay, I don’t want to hear this shit. My name is Mary Ann. Now you just get me off your phone and we’re cool.”   Suddenly I saw this stranger in a whole new light.


"Right. Super cool."

I am no techie, so trying to change my friend’s number, I kept calling Mary Ann!

“Girl, you do have some serious problems."

"Mary, you don't know the half of it."

"Get your kids to fix it. My son fixes my computer all the time." Suddenly I wanted to invite Mary over for a coffee.

Finally I erased the whole thing and started over.

As my girls get taller I have to keep putting things on higher shelves. I think I have some kitchen knives on the roof. Now, I’m slightly terrified to look at my cel phone bill this month. They love coming into my office and drawing hearts and flowers on my work documents, letters, bills.

"But we want to be just like you mom. Sit in p.j.'s all day and play on your computer." Here, I stifle some tears. Kids just love their parents no matter what. Until they don't. Later.

I tried to lock my door but there’s the consistent, maddening pounding and my guilt; "This is obvious rejection they will take into their adult life and will never be happy and seek out rejection all because of you!”

I keep my phone hidden behind my doll I made for them which they hate, so I know it’s safe. For now.

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