A Little Bit of Joy and a Little Bit of Oy

I found a scrap of paper on the floor the other day. I glanced at it and the top said, "THD's To-Do List For Monday". Listed were:

Look around!
Is the bathroom clean
Are the dogs fed
Does the trash need to go out
Are there dishes in the sink
Tell the manager you need more hours at work for school credit
Finish reading assignment
Hint that you need your own cellphone

Bless his heart. LOL

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On Saturday, Hubby took THD out on his errands to acquaint him with the geography of our town and to introduce him to whatever friends or associates they might run into. As I said in my last post, the phone has been ringing off the hook since THD has apparently given our unlisted phone number to every person who has asked for it (not that there is anything wrong with that). So while they were gone, I got to play social secretary.

When they got back, the Dood asked if anyone had called. I looked at my list.

"Ashley, Amber, Alyssa, Andrea and Azure called. And some girl who wouldn't leave a message."

Thanks! He grabbed the phone and raced up to the loft to start dialing.

Hubby looked at me. "Is it just me, or does it seem like he's working his way through the student body alphabetically? How many weeks do you think it will take him to get to 'Z' ?"
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I feel like breaking my foot off in my brother's butt. He went on a bender shortly after THD's arrival, and he hasn't checked in to my mother's house for the last 5 days. There are several items of mail there from the Department of Family services from the state THD was in. Including, I'm supposing, THD's medicaid transfer. The kid has 3 days left of medication, has a mental health intake next week and a doctor's appointment. But no medicaid card. Mom won't just open the mail or forward it to me, even knowing it's regarding THD (because that would be wrong), and my brother isn't returning anyone's calls. Grrr.
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Last night I was up to my elbows in meatloaf mix (you know, where you have to squish all the ingredients by hand) when the phone rang.

THD and Hubby were outside splitting wood, so I said to Little Guy, "Why don't you answer it?"

Little Guy is a bit afraid of using the telephone. Mostly because it involves spontaneous conversation, and he isn't very comfortable talking to strangers without having a rehearsed set of comments ready. Although we've practiced good phone etiquette, he was nervous.

"You can do it!" I encouraged.

So he clicked on the button. Hello? THD? He's outside, hold on. Wait. Can I tell him who's calling?

Suddenly his mouth dropped open. I'm not allowed to say that. That's not very nice.

I grabbed a towel and started wiping the glop off my hands. "Who is it?"

He pulled the phone away from his ear.

It's a VAGINA! he exclaimed in a fairly loud stage whisper.

"A what?"

He said it louder. IT'S A VAGINA!!

I took the phone from him. We've had our share of crank calls and I can verbally blister someone's eardrums with dispatch. What kind of idiot would make a nasty phone call when everyone has caller ID nowadays?

"Who is calling please?" I asked crisply.

A scared little voice said, "Is this THD's house?"

"Yes, and who are YOU?"

"Could you please tell him Regina called?" Then she hung up.

R-E-G-I-N-A. Rhymes with....

Oy. Poor kid.