Tag Archives: cell phone

Hey… so…

I’ve just been generally unposty. Sorry! And it’s not just here. My family picture blog is painfully neglected, too, and an online message board I frequent of other moms that I’ve been chatting with since before Lane was born probably thinks I fell off the face of the Earth. No real reason for it… just not in the mood to be very verbose.

In me news:

Things are progressing on the purchase of the house next to the in-laws. There was some talk over the last couple days of backing out, due to a festering insect infestation that the current owners were resistant about treating properly, but news that infestations means buyers can have trouble getting mortgages on their property seems to have changed their tune.

I’ve had a couple small electrical type things in my life die over the last week. The first was my cell phone. One minute it was happily in my pocket, the next it was on my in-laws’ driveway during my visit to water their vegetable garden. I didn’t notice it was missing until the next morning, and didn’t find it in their driveway until that afternoon…. after about 12 hours of good, soaking rains. The amazing thing is that after it dried out, it worked at all. The unfortunate thing is that functioning was spotty, it wasn’t keen on staying powered on, and it would press its own “9” button at random, so it would involuntarily save my messages to voice mail when I was trying to listen to them or speed dial Frank at work.  Not necessarily the behavior one looks for in a cell phone.  So I abandoned it after a couple days, and visited my friendly local Verizon Wireless store.  Where I learned, even though I didn’t have insurance on the phone and even it wasn’t yet time for me to get a new phone with renewing my contract, because they gave me 20% off my bill because they think I still work for my old company, they gave me a new phone for free anyway.  Score one for corporate back-scratching.

The other death in the family was of our waffle iron.  Yes, our just-got-it-for-Christmas, super souped-up waffle iron.  We were making waffles … and two came out just fine, and then it just stopped being hot enough.  The next one got to formed-but-white status, and that was it.  We tried turning it on a couple more times, wondering if the cease of proper performance was more just a quirk, or a temporary temper tantrum (perhaps the waffle iron was expressing its own views over the conversation in the kitchen that morning) but alas, it turned out its demise was quite permanent.  Costco happily took back the waffle iron and gave me a merchandise credit.  (They also took back the orchid I bought that there promptly committed suicide the second I brought it home.  I am sticking with this story, as I have another orchid that I have managed to keep alive for over a year.)

Last in news is that we are headed to Sesame Place this weekend, which is a veritable smorgasbord  of fun and adventure if you are a  preschooler.  And, we have one of them!  And a toddler who will certainly enjoy it, too!  And we’re meeting  friends there as well, who have 2 year-old twin girls, so I think we’ll have a good time.

Breaking out the crazy

We were supposed to see a house this morning at 9:30.  The owner is apparently particular about when people can see this house, so will only let people book morning appointments.  No sweat, Frank could go too.  (I’ve been previewing some houses just on my own to cull the lot of ones that Frank might go back to see, too.)

We get there, and our realtor – my MIL’s best friend and a lovely woman and someone who is perpetually early for everything – isn’t there yet.  This is odd, so I immediately check my cell phone for messages.  I discover the phone was set to silent (oops) and there are four messages.

Message 1 (8:30 a.m.):  Our realtor.  The people have canceled the appointment, and she doesn’t want us to go out unnecessarily with the kids.  OK.

After hearing this message, I tell Frank the appointment was canceled and he gets back into his car and heads off to work.  I get back into my car, where the kids are still in their car seats, and continue to go through the messages.

Message 2 (9:09 a.m.):  Realtor again, trying to reach us.  She also tried emailing me.  If I get this message, please call her.

Message 3 (9:14):  My mother in-law.  The realtor has called HER because she can’t reach us.  Um, why, I wonder?  MIL wonders why I’m not answering the phone and please call them and the realtor.

Message 4 (9:27):  My father in-law.  Why aren’t you answering your phone, Lisa?  The appointment is canceled!

OH MY GOODNESS.

I start driving away, and notice a familiar Lexus in my rear-view mirror, honking and flashing its lights at me.  The in-laws have driven to where the appointment was (I’d told them the evening before the street the house was on that we were supposed to see today).  They have come to notify us that the appointment was canceled.  Oh, and scold me for being unreachable by cell phone for a whole hour.

Oh, my goodness.  OH MY GOODNESS!  Can I say it enough!?!  OH. MY. GOODNESS!!!!!

I’m not sure if the inclination to make a mountain out of a mole hill is particular to my in-laws, or if it’s a Czech thing in general (my in-laws are Czech, they came to the U.S. in the late 60s).  Why on earth is it necessary to turn this minor non-event into a crisis?  If they weren’t so normal and nice and reasonable most of the time, I might think they were lunatics.