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Sunday, September 12, 2010

That Next-Day Call

I know I hate making it (but then again I hate phones period).

To men it's like a check-in phone call, like we're away at camp and have to call home.  We know.  You need to hear it in our voices that we enjoyed ourselves, hear some pledge to do it again.

But we have lives, ones that continued when you said goodnight.

Now, had you invited us in for coffee ...

Nope.  Still probably wouldn't want to call.  Sometimes it's because we're trying to play the situation breezy, not seem too excited (you're doing the same thing, probably).  Other times it's because the date was simply the date -- neither exceedingly bad or good.

We might send a text.  It's like an e-mail; no need to respond unless it's urgent.  The next-day phone call should be changed officially to the next-day text.  I like that.  It's easier.  Plus, my boys don't have to shut up when I answer the phone.  They've been busy laughing at me telling them about you queefing in your sleep.

Just sayin'.

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