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August 12, 2005
I do not think that it means what you think that it means
--- "Quite right," Emerson ejaculated. "I cannot imagine what you were thinking of, Peabody, to suggest such a thing.
--- "Holy Jehoshaphat," he ejaculated. "How did she get up here? Not by way of the stairs, or I'd have seen her coming."
--- "Hell and damnation!" I ejaculated, for I knew those light, quick steps.
My, my, my. Certain words that one might casually skip over while reading a book seem to stand out when read aloud.
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In other news, Janie is now answering the phone herself. I was doing a spot of emergency babysitting this morning, which is now quite delightful since Janie can entertain herself for hours on end with a Barbie hotel, Barbie house, Blue's Clues videos, and a pack of Ritz crackers. I was making some calls (part of the BIG IDEA) on my computer (people who aren't on Skype yet are hopeless) and I needed complete quiet. After all, it's hard to sound uber-professional with a small child babbling in the background about the aforementioned Barbie motel, Barbie house, Blue's Clues videos, and pack of Ritz crackers.
So we had a little discussion about how she could watch videos upstairs, and that if she needed me for an EMERGENCY (defined in great detail), she could come downstairs and whisper to me. All fine and good. I didn't hear a peep out of her for 45 minutes.
Then, in the middle of a VERY important phone call on MY line, the house phone rings. To make matters worse, for some reason I had three cordless phones--taken from various places in the house--in the basement room, so it was a cacophony of noise. Trying to maintain my composure, I managed to continue my phone conversation long enough for the house answering machine to pick up.
But then...I notice that the house phone has stopped ringing, but the answering machine (also located in the basement where my desk is) never picked up. I figure the person had hung up, but a few seconds later, Janie trots into the room with the phone in her hand. She whispers that its my father, calling from Kansas, and simply refuses to tell him I'll call him back. I'm wildly trying to shoo her away, while maintaining my smooth telephone persona on MY call, even as her protestations grow in volume.
I ended up having to tell MY phone call to hold on a second, while I talked to my dad on the house phone long enough to arrange to call him back. Once I took the phone, Janie happily returned to her Barbie Barbie house, Blue's Clues videos, and pack of Ritz crackers.
It was only later, once I had concluded MY telephone calls--the guy at the other end didn't seem to mind the high-pitched shrieking interruption on my end--did it occur to me that Janie had picked up the phone on her own. I wandered upstairs, located her in her bedroom-having moved on to dress-up games.
"Why did you pick up the phone?"
"It was grandad."
"I know it was. But how did YOU know that it was grandad before you picked up?"
"I saw there was a Q in the name." [Referring to the caller ID.]
"Janie, there is no Q in our name."
"Ya-huh there is. Besides, I knew it was him."
"How?"
[Rolls eyes and emits deep sigh.] "Aunt Jen, I know my own family."
I left the room at that point, convinced that we could continue discussing the issue for another 20 minutes and get nowhere.
