A Cheap, Plasticky Walmart Affair

I slammed the phone down. Hard. Not an angry kind of slam, but a scared "I don't want this thing in my hands" kind of slam.

I can still feel the smoothness of that dark green phone- one of those cheap, plasticky Walmart affairs. The coiled cord was the length of an orange industrial extension cable I'd see in my dad's garage.  It was permanently knotted in spots.  The buttons lit up a putrid yellow when you pressed them, and the whole thing felt like it would crumble if you squeezed it too hard.  Cruddy for sure, but, always remembered. It was on this phone that I finally got the courage to call Nell for the first time.

I'd had her number ingrained in my subconscious for a while now. 275–2288. My quivering 16-year-old hand attempted another dial. I made it to the first 8 this time before I flung the phone back down. Bah. Why was this so hard?

I knew she had watched the movie. Forrest Gump had just finished on TNT. I knew she had watched it. I knew.  I'd overheard her say something about that movie at school before. That was going to be my in for the call.  I'd thought up a hundred excuses to call her before, but I always psyched myself out of it.  But tonight was going to be different.  I'd made a deal with myself.  I had to call.  I just had to.

A big chug of Dr. Pepper.  Cheek slaps.  I'm doing it.  This was not going to be like all those other nights.  I am doing it.  Tonight.  Do or die.

Hand shaking, I eased up the clunky green phone.  Dial tone.  Deep breath.  2.  This is so stupid.  Why am I so nervous?  I see her at school every day.  I have classes with her.  I know her.  It's fine.  7.  What if her mom or dad picks up first?  Do I say who's calling or just ask for Nell?  5.  What if nobody answers?  What if they're not home?  2.  What if she doesn't know who I am?  What if I have to explain who I am?  2.  What if she didn't watch the movie after all?  8.  What if I just totally freeze?  She is so breathtakingly beautiful.  What if I can't remember what to say?  The last digit.  Uncharted waters.  What if...  8.

Ringing.
Ringing.
"Hello?" 
"Uh.  Hi.  Is, is this Nell?"
"Yes."
"Oh, hey.  It's, uh, Justin- from school.  So, did you watch Forrest Gump tonight..."

[Photo courtesy of Oldphoneworks.com]

Mr. Mom

Do you remember that one? Classic. I love this movie. I have not seen it on TV yet this summer, but I'm looking. I should probably break down and just buy it, but I'm cheap. Favorite line: "My brain is like oatmeal. I yelled at Kenny today for coloring outside the lines! Megan and I are starting to watch the same TV shows, and I'm liking them! I'm losing it."

This summer as my wife finishes up teaching summer school, I can relate to Michael Keaton's character Jack Butler and his plight. It is not that easy staying at home with the kids. They're always. . . around. And they need stuff- food, clothes, playtime, diapers, love, attention. The problems come when they don't get one of the above at the exact second they want it. I got my wife a Mother's Day card that read "I childproofed the house, but they keep getting back in." I don't think the kids got it.

Conversation is definitely one sided. Daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy- get me, get me, get me, get me, get me- no, no, no, no, no. But I just pray for patience and wisdom and try to realize that I am touching the future. At least that's what I read on a T shirt.

But truly, deep down, it's great. I am absolutely in love with my three amazing children and wouldn't trade being a dad for anything. It is such an incredible responsibility. I am sad that some dads miss out on really being a father. Sometimes my wife or I will get a comment like "Oh, it's so nice that you are watching the kids." To that I always have to say "Well, not really. I'm not a babysitter. I'm their dad."

Picture courtesy of www.videodetective.com