Phone, why must you mock me?!

I have left many messages today, trying to schedule a teleconference on very short notice. Do the return calls come in an orderly manner? No, they do not. I leave my desk, oh so briefly, to go to the ladies' room. A call comes, sending me into a round of phone tag. And while I am leaving a message, another call comes in. Can I finish this message in time to pick up the second call? No, I cannot. This is phone tag sparring partner #2. And when my boss calls me, and I do not want to ignore her call because of how many things we are trying to touch base about, why is it when I have my mouth full of chocolate covered pretzels? Crunching and choking are not part of my professional demeanor.


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Who's Who

    Hubby- aka DH My husband since 1995. He is the head of the band department at a college prep school, and dabbles as a wanna-be pop star.

    The Princess- aka DD. Third grader at the local parochial school. Loves butterlies, sparkly things, the color purple and has recently developed a crush on one of the twins from "The Suite Life of Zach and Cody". Is ready for her teenage years, having already perfected her exasperated sigh and dramatic eye-roll.

    Hoss- aka DS1. Kindergartener and resident spirited child. His aunt likes to call him "the evil genius" because of his penchant for letting a lack of intellectual stimulation lead him into mischief. Likes trucks, sports, building things and burping. His current favorite word is "underwear."

    Lil Joe- aka DS2. Born in 2003. Doesn't say much we can understand, but has mastered the important stuff ("eat!", "Wash hands!", "Want chocolate ones!", "Hockey game!") Likes to push buttons, much to the consternation of whoever is trying to watch a DVD. Firmly refuses to use the potty, despite evidence that he is physically ready to be out of diapers, indicating a level of stubborn that eclipses even that of his parents and siblings.

    Me? I'm the Mama. That's all you need to know.

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