Tuesday, September 2, 2008

False Alarm

My Papa called me tonight. He left this voicemail that was all out of breath and it said, "Emily, call me back as soon as you get this!" click.

A bit of backstory: In the time that I have owned this cell phone number, four years, I cannot recall a single time that my Papa has called me. It's always via my grandma.

So I get worried.

I try to call back; busy. I try again; again busy. I try four or five times and get busy-ed. So I turn my car around and head to their house. I call my parents to see if they are on the phone with them. No luck, but I do sound the alarm and I found later that in the time span it took me to drive to their house, a number of hypotheses were formed by both parties:

  • Grandma has fallen, the phone fell off the hook and Papa is freaking out!
  • Sally, the dog, is dying and they are too overtaken with grief to think clearly!
  • Papa has fallen and Grandma is not there. And the phone has, mysteriously, fallen off the hook!
  • They have both fallen and the phone... well, you get the picture.

So I get there, and all the lights are off. This is also rare. I walk up to the door and am greeted by my bright, smiling grandma. "Hey honey! What are you doin' out here?"

Me: "Well, I got this voicemail from Papa and I was just checking on you all."

Grandma: "Oh, that! He was callin' to see if you could help him hook up his new _________ (insert hand gesture here) TV controller thingy."

Me: "Remote?"

Grandma: "Yeah, but he figured it out right when you got there!"

Me: "Of course he did! Why was the phone busy?"

Grandma: "Hmm? Oh, I was talkin' to Lynn. Are you ok?"

False alarm. Crisis averted. The grandparents are as fine as fine could be. Thank goodness.

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