If you call my house, chances are you won't get to talk to me. At least not for very long.
Today I was sitting in my room filing papers. I had been up for hours, gone to the market, and made fresh french toast for the kids who are home for Veterans Day.
Then the phone rang.
The second I picked up, the call was interrupted by my son who asked for a cream cheese sandwich despite the fact he had JUST eaten breakfast.
Annoyed, I got off the phone, made him a sandwich and went back to work.
The phone rang again.
I answered it and managed to get "hello" out when my son interrupts again. He needs pants. Right away. Pajamas just won't do. Even though he's been wearing them for hours. I end my call and find my kid pants.
"Ben, do you need anything else?"
"Are you sure? Because every time I pick up the phone it seems like you have a problem. I'd like to be able to talk on the phone. Can you let me talk on the phone if someone calls?"
"Okay. You have a sandwich, you have water, you have pants....you got everything?"
I went back to filing. The phone rang.
"Hey, it's me." My sister.
Are you f*cking kidding me???? "WHAT, BENNNNN????!!!!! WHAT'S THE PROBLEM?!
He came in holding a phone receiver. "You have a phone call."
Obviously...that's the problem.