Phone Calls Home

        I had to smile yesterday afternoon. I had just called our son in Alabama to talk to him about the care package I'd sent him. We talked about the clothes I'd carefully packed in the box, the box of Wheat Thins, the peanut butter cups…the dance he'd gone to on Friday night. I probably spoke with Arthur about fifteen minutes.

       After I hung up, I felt terrible. I'd been so excited to talk to our boy that I hadn't even thought about passing the phone to my husband. When I apologized to Tom, he told me not to worry about it. He'd talked to Arthur just an hour earlier.

       But then, when we shared our conversations, I realized very quickly that he hadn't talked to Art about anything that I did. Matter of fact, he didn't even know about the dance. After a few minutes, I started getting really confused. Tom didn't know about the care package, the dance, our son's lunch out with all his friends, or his good friend's new puppy.

       "What did you talk to him about?" I asked.

        "His grades and his bank account."

        Hmm…I didn't even think to ask him about either of those things.  Guess there's a reason our boy has two of us checking in! 

       I hope everyone is having a good Monday. I had to finish reviewing final line edits for The Survivor, so now I'm off to Fed Ex. After that? Back to writing.  It's cold here today…in the 30′s! Can't wait for spring to stay.

      with blessings,

     Shelley