This morning the phone rang while Shawn was in the shower. I picked it up. Hello?
The man on the other end of the line said, May I speak to your Daddy please?
This is something that happens to me every once in awhile. I guess I have a young-sounding voice (which is nice when I feel like being young, but frustrating when I'm trying to be a thirty-two year old). It hasn't happened in awhile though, and I was taken off guard.
Long pause.
Finally I decided not to play games and just asked in my most grownup voice, Do you mean Shawn?
The man said, Oh I'm sorry, honey. Is he your stepfather?
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2 comments:
I remember one of the most poignant things I ever read about you was written by your friend who talked about your voice on the phone. She expected you to sound like a nun all composed and serene the way you write, but she said you sounded like a young happy cheerleader. I loved that and it made me cry for some reason. I was glad you sounded happy.
I remember that - it was special to me too. I think she gave me too much credit, but love makes it possible to find ordinary things extraordinary, doesn't it?
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