I have recently decided that I will never again talk on the cell phone while driving. Colorado Highway Patrol should issue a notice that the roads around here are a whole lot safer now as a direct result of my decision. I’ve tried driving-while-gabbing a few times and, without fail, I wind up doing something appallingly stupid that has me shaking for quite awhile afterwards. I am most decidedly not a multi-tasker.
So, when I absolutely have to use the phone and I’m already in the car, my oldest daughter is my receptionist. She answers the phone when it rings, and she makes calls for me when necessary. (Hey, this could have been a “Works for Me Wednesday” post!)
The other day, I needed to call Pete to let him know that we were going to be late getting home from karate/gymnastics/piano/whatever. I asked my daughter to make the call, and she happily did so. After she’d dialed and paused to wait for her daddy to answer, she burst into giggles. I glanced over and saw that her face was pink and her eyes were sparkling. Through her laughter, she said, “It’s me, Daddy!”
Once she was finished with the brief phone call, she was still pink and grinning. She turned to me and said, “When he answered the phone, he said, ‘Hi, Sweetie!’ He thought I was you!”
Perhaps this is too minor of a thing to write about on my blog, but I don’t think so. I think it’s wonderful that my daughter knows exactly who “Sweetie” is, and that hearing her daddy address her mommy so tenderly creates such a strong reaction in her heart. She kept grinning and giggling about it for at least ten more minutes.
It made me wonder how I normally speak to Pete, how I address him; and it made me realize that I need to think more intentionally about the young ears that are paying such close attention.