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The only reason Matt and I have a landline is because our building requires it in order for us to buzz people in. We both have cell phones, and while I sometimes make calls on the landline to save my minutes, it is rare that we receive any incoming calls other than visitors needing into the building or telemarketers.

Tonight the phone rang, and we aren’t expecting anyone over, but you never know, and our landline is in the church directory so occasionally church people call us there instead of our cells. I waddled to the kitchen and picked up the receiver only to hear silence.

“Hello?” Just as I was about to hang up, I heard a connection click and a woman’s voice replied.

“Hello?” she said.

“Hello.”

“Hello, this is Terry so-and-so from the something police association (I think), and I am making this recorded call to ask for your support. How are you doing tonight?”

I paused because she was speaking quickly and sounded tough, no-nonsense. I was confused why she was calling, was she calling from the police? No, she’s going to ask for money. “I’m okay,” I answered honestly and tried to figure out if I had anything more creative than “No, sorry,” to say when she made her pitch. Little did I know she had me covered.

“Are your parents home?” Terry asked. I stared blankly at my kitchen wall, then a smile spread slowly across my face.

“No they aren’t.” I am a master of truth-telling.

“Okay, well we will call back at a more convenient time. Have a good night.”

“Okay, bye.” I hung up the phone and died of laughter.

What a good night.

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