When your sons are young, it seems like you will never have peace and quiet. They're incessant talking machines with a boundless fount of energy and they're loud.And then they grow up. And conversation--especially on the telephone is exactly like the picture above. Only I'm pretty sure that the dog is having a longer conversation that I usually do.
There are a few exceptions... Mother's Day. Christmas. The day after my son survived a tornado. The day after the older son survived a car crash. But mostly... mostly they act as though they've lost use of those mouths that used to give me a migraine.
Occasionally, one of them will shock me by having a fairly lengthy conversation and I'll wonder if they're sick or in jail or something equally disastrous. When I query them, there's always this aura of innocence. "I just thought I'd give you a call and talk."
Uh-huh. Like I believe that. Something's going on. I'm a mother. I know these things.
anny
Mhmm:)
ReplyDeleteAs a mother not only do I have eyes in the back of my head, I am a mind-reader par excellence. I can tell within a word if something is wrong. Mother's intuition.
ReplyDeleteRight on the button, Anny! My definition of "mother's sense" is:
ReplyDelete*Able to hear a mouse fart at fifty paces,
*Able to read between the lines when reading a letter,
*Able to understand and respond to mono-syllabic responses over the phone,
*and Able to see through walls when it grows too quiet.