I have a friend who is vacationing in Michigan. She and her husband are at a campground with her sister and her brother-in-law, and other extended family members. I have had three phone calls from this friend. The last two did not begin with "Hello," but went something like this.
"Hello," I said.
"Tell her there was nine caramels in her bag," said my breathless friend. (I sent a bag of a dozen caramels to my friend's sister, who they are camping with.)
'Give me that phone," I heard the sister say as she wrestles the phone from my friend. "Hello, Lynne?"
"Hi, Kathie" I said.
"Lynne, how many caramels were in my bag THAT HAD BEEN OPENED!? Oh, by the way, thanks so much for the caramels," she said, exuding charm. "Now, Lynne," she said, getting right back to her subject. "Just how many caramels were in my bag?"
"Twelve," I said.
"TWELVE? I KNEW IT! THREE ARE MISSING. I saw one in Wendy's sweatshirt. Okay, fess up, who have my other two caramels?" I hear hysterical laughter in the background. "Oh, sorry, Lynne," she said, coming back on the line, "but SOMEONE HAS STOLEN SOME OF MY CARAMELS. By the way, did I say thanks?"
My friend came back on the phone and we talked all the while I could hear her sister giving the laughing members of her family the third degree.
That was Saturday. I got another phone call today.
"Hello," I said.
"Lynne," my friend said, "They have STOLEN MY caramels!"
I can hear more hysterical laughter in the background.
My friend continues, without hardly taking a breath. "I went in the trailer to get my caramels TO SHARE, I WAS GOING TO SHARE THEM," I hear her shout to the hooting crowd, "and they were not on the table, where I had left them, so I look in the fridge but they are not in the fridge, so I go outside and I say, 'who stole my caramels?' and I look at my sister and her face is bright red and I say, 'You did it, Kathie,' and she says, 'Gayle made me do it.'" By now my friend doesn't have enough breath left to make a squeak and I hear waves of laughter coming from everyone else.
Well, we talked a few minutes more, all the time she is shouting accusations at the laughing crowd and finally she says, "Well, I better go. Thanks for providing us with something to laugh about around the campfire."
I'm glad to oblige. I just wish I had sent caramels to someone else. I'm beginning to look forward to these phone calls where no one says "Hello," but just starts right in, telling me about thievery among family. I'm glad I could be the catalyst for interesting phone calls. We all do what we can in life and if I can't contribute life-changing-events I'm glad to have proviced laughter. I'm nice, like that.