Missed Call

The other morning my phone rang early in the morning. Five-thirty-one, to be exact. Although I am usually an early riser, I was not so cognizant as to recognize my mother's ring tone until it had stopped. Then the voice-mail tone chimed. Understand that my mother is tech-savvy for a woman with grandchildren graduating from college and like all of us, technology sometimes gets the better of her. My mother's phone has called and left messages before. Usually they are unintelligible mumblings muffled from the inside of a purse. That is what I heard once I got up and checked my phone. I giggled a bit and thought nothing more of the incident for I knew they were to be traveling to London explaining the early hour of the missed call.

The next day I get another call from my mother's phone except that it was later in the day and I was able to answer prior to going to voice-mail mode. "Hello?" I hear the familiar sounds of the interior of my mother's purse. I persisted a little louder, "Hello?!" More rustling. I vaguely hear my father giving an apparent address, ".... Nrfumberland ...mfmpl....off Trafalger Sqrmllmmm...". I'm so glad my mother's phone has decided to take me on this vicarious trip. I wonder if it can send me a pint of Old Speckled Hen?