Last night at 9pm, I got this phone call:
"Hello."
"Hi, Kirsten. Is your husband there?" (in an urgent tone.)
A slight pause from me as I register that this is my grandmother.
"I'm sorry, that wasn't a very nice greeting, was it? How are you? This is grandma. Is Eric there? I'm having a problem with my DVD player, and your father is not home!"
So I say to Eric who is sitting calmly reading an article on his computer, "It's my grandma, she wants to talk to you."
I then get a wicked grin on my face as I stand there watching for his reaction to her request. It's not like I couldn't help her with her DVD player, but I have a hunch it will be frustrating, and besides, she did ask for Eric.
Eric takes the phone and says, "Hello Betty."
And I wait for it, and then the look of surprise registers on Eric's face as he says, "well what button are you pushing?"
Another pause.
"It says 'disc 1 empty'? Well then you need to switch to one of the other disks and press open."
Another pause. And then Eric tries to explain the concept of multiple disk trays to my grandmother--unsuccessfully.
Eric throws up his hands to me in frustration that he manages to hide in his voice.
"OK, Betty, let's try this. Tell me what type of DVD player you have." He gets out his computer to look it up online, hoping to find a picture that will help him know how it works.
BUT, my grandma couldn't figure out what type of model she has. So Eric went to our DVD player and says, "I think the brand would be written on the front. Our player says Panasonic on the front."
My grandmother starts to read everything that she sees on her DVD player.
"Oh, that's a good idea. Keep reading me the button names."
A pause.
"You have a button called 'disk skip'? Excellent. Keep pushing that button, Betty."
A pause. Then what I assume to be my grandmother expressing her gratitude.
"Great, I'm happy I could help. You're welcome, Betty. Goodnight."
And she hangs up. Not a word of greeting to me. Not a word of news. She just hung up and got back to her DVD. And Eric and I had a good laugh about the fact that she never considered asking me for help.
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7 comments:
Cute story...I'm having fun imagining you and Eric laughing about it together. I miss you so much dear cousin of mine. Wish we lived closer...
I'm sorry to hear that your grandma's second X chromosome is giving her such trouble. Fortunate the Y was in the house when the going got tough.
Kirsten! Great story! I love how much you are posting lately! I love reading your stuff.
Marti, I think the comment's author themselves delete those comments. You know how there is a little trash can next to the comments you wrote after they are published? You can delete them and them it shows that there was a comment deleted. My guess is someone got self conscious about what they said. I usually have that moment after writing, before publishing, just in time to erase the whole thing.
Thanks for that explanation, Robyn. There have been moments when I've wanted to commit comment suicide, but I didn't know it was an option.
Yup, just tried it. Comment suicide. Now it looms there like a dark mark with all those black and grey tones: "comment deleted"
Robyn is correct. I didn't delete anything. Now I'm curious. :)
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