Is your refrigerator running?

Have you ever lost touch with an old friend? One such friend tried to find me recently. We lost contact when Herman and I moved in with Dad four years ago. A lot of things fell through the cracks when we moved back home last fall. Letting her know we were home was one of those things. She found Dad’s number and called him. She finally caught up with me today and told me how the conversation went.

Dad ~ Hello.

Friend ~ Is this the Blahblahblah residence?

Dad ~ Yes.

Friedn ~ I’m a friend of Bonnie’s, could I speak with her?

Dad ~ There’s no Bonnie here.

Friend ~ There’s no Bonnie there?

Dad ~ No.

Friend ~ But a Bonnie does live there?

Dad ~ Nope.

Friend ~ But this is the Blahblahbla residence?

Dad ~ Yep.

Friend ~ And she doesn’t live there?

Dad ~ Nope.

Friend ~ And you don’t know a Bonnie?

Dad ~ Yep.

Friend ~ ….  ….


Friend ~ So you do know her?

Dad ~ Yep.

Friend ~ Do you have her number?

Dad ~ She calls me. I don’t call her.

Friend ~ Oh, I see. Thank you very much.

And none of this was said in the friendliest of tones on Dad’s part.

He has all his marbles – every single one. Yes, he does. He knows who the heck I am and how to get in touch with me. Technically, he didn’t lie to her. He just ran her around the bush a few times and refused to give her the information she was looking for. He was entertaining himself… pretending not to know me… sort of. When I told my brother, he said, “You know he was just messin’ with her?”


She finally tracked me down through a mutual friend. This reminds me of when I first started dating. That was a joy, too.



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