Well, apparently I should’ve been more specific, because this is one of the calls I got this week:
“Mom, will you look at this hat online real quick? It’s really cool and it’s on sale!”
This along with various other calls inquiring when I’m getting home, if I’ve left yet to come home, and—again—when I’m getting home.
However, the other day I was driving home when I noticed that I had a text. From the same son who’d called me repeatedly about various trivialities. So I casually picked up the phone (when I came to a stop, of course) and read the text. Here’s what I saw:
“Mom, the vacuum cought on fire.”
(Yes, I kept his spelling intact despite my editorial urges to fix it.)
Really? A marked-down skater hat ranks an interrupting phone call, but a fire involving a household appliance only warrants a text?!
As you can imagine, I nearly drove off the road calling him back to see if the house was burning down (considering the text had been sent a half hour before I saw it). Fortunately, it wasn’t a FIRE as much as it was a yucky smell coming from the vacuum, presumably caused by my dear son sucking up a wad of paper towels. (He “didn’t see them.”)
So, this story has somewhat of a happy ending (although I can’t vacuum now until I get to the store to purchase a new belt). But, can someone tell me how this is logical in the mind of a middle-schooler? Ugh.
Image by mrceviz