Tuesday, July 07, 2009

Late Night Phone Calls

The scene: 10 PM last night, in bed, nearly asleep. The phone rings. Baby Brother Ryan on other end of line.

"Hey - you here the news?!"

*Blogmistress stops breathing, loathes calls after 9 as tends to think of horrendous catastrophes only*

*is quite macabre, really*

"Jesus - what?"

"I broke my wrists!"

"The fuck?"

"I'm on my way to the ER now - I was trying to grab a basketball rim, and I slipped. The left one is BROKEN - you should see it - the right one is messed up too!"

"Shit - are you in a lotta pain?"

"No - do I sound like I am?" (Er, no. Dude sounds like he just won the lottery.)

"Who's taking you to the hospital?"

"My friends."

"No one's been drinking, right?" (Holy shit: Am old.)


"Do you have your insurance card?"

"Nope - lost it."

"Oy. You call Mom?"

"Yep - she's pissed. We're almost there"

"OK - call me if you need me; my phone's on."


*blogmistress hangs up, turns to J in bed*

"You see? This is why you must keep the phone next to the bed. Emergencies such as this!"

"Emergency? How did you help there?"

"I asked about his insurance card. Obviously. And now I'm informed."

*husband snorts*

"Fuck. I am going to be ridiculous when we have kids. I may never sleep again."


The scene: 11 PM last night, in bed, absolutely asleep. The phone rings. It's Far-Mor (that's hardcore Swedish for "grandmom", y'all).

*blogmistress has heart attack. Someone is most certainly dead this time.*

"Number one granddaughter?" (eat that, sisters and girl cousins)

"Hi Grandpop - what's up?"

"Why did you answer?"

"My brother broke his wrist and he's at the hospital; I was waiting for him to call."

"Oh no! I'm going to get Far-Mor on the other phone."

*goes to find Far-Mor, tells her Michael broke his wrist*

"Melissa? What happened? Michael broke his wrist?!"

"No, Far-Mor, Ryan. Ryan broke his wrist."


"Playing basketball. Uh, what's up, guys?"

"The reason I'm calling," Far-Far begins, "is to tell you that when you land in Denver on Thursday evening, call my cell phone. That way we'll know what time to expect you."


"Do you have that number?"


"It's 719..."

"Got it."

"The girls have no idea you're coming! Well, I might have slipped today. But I'm pretty sure they didn't hear me," Far-Mor assures me.


"So what happened to Ryan?"

"Um, guys, I'm gonna go now. I was sleeping."

"Sleeping! What time is it there? Oh - 11? Oh, okay, well, we'll let you go. We can't wait to see you! Love you lots!"

"Love you too. Night."

*blogmistress turns to snoring husband. says to self: the hell?*

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