Stop Telephonin' Me-e-e-e-e!

I have a fabulous day of shopping. Make a killing. Lots of great stuff. Bargains galore. I have assembled a lovely pile of gifts for each child. It is a very satisfying feeling.

I go home and begin to artfully wrap gifts. Coordinating tissue paper and wrapping paper. Each child having their own ensemble of wrap and ribbons. Gift receipts for all in case I've gotten it wrong.

I pour wine, I light a balsam candle, I unfold a woolly blanket across my legs, put my feet up and tune in to Sunday Night Football. All is right with the world.

And then the peace and joy of the season is shattered by the wrecking ball that is my mother.

I should preface this next part by saying that I have no way of knowing whether my mother was drinking but it was after dinner and she was hair-trigger ill-tempered. You be the judge.

"Hello," I say.

And we are off to the races. "You never called anyone back!"

"I know Mom. I got no fewer than 7 calls in 10 minutes while I was busy doing something else. I got what I needed from your message so there was no reason."

"YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO CALL YOUR BROTHER BACK!"

"WELL MOM, IF HE HAD HALF A BRAIN IN HIS HEAD, WHEN HE REALIZED HOW BUSY I WAS, HE COULD HAVE SIMPLY LEFT THE SIZES IN A MESSAGE DURING ONE OF THE UMTEEN CALLS HE MADE!"

"YOUR VOICE MAIL ISN'T SET UP!"

Curses. The new cell phone. "My house phone voicemail is in fine working order, Mom. He called that at least a time or two. He couldn't have left the message there? You both called over and over again for 10 solid minutes like a pair of lunatics until I finally stopped the treadmill and had to answer so he would stop the insanity!"

"THE POINT IS, YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO CALL HIM BACK! I'M BEGINNING TO THINK THAT YOU DON'T CARE ABOUT ANYBODY ANYMORE! I DON'T KNOW WHAT'S HAPPENED TO, YOU BUT I DON'T LIKE IT ONE BIT...!!!""""

She went on for a bit more in the voice that could peel paint and a tone that could be used by the Department of Defense to scramble enemy brain waves. But I don't really know what she said. At that point, what was left of the rational side of my brain had popped like an overloaded circuit and with a whiff of ozone, whichever brain hemisphere controls reason began to turn to the consistency of burnt toast. And from there I came completely untethered from reality and went spinning off so far into space that no one could possibly reach my mouth to clamp their hand over it.

My next sentence began with the words, "Shut up!"