Grandma Bell

Often Lumpyhead and Lula decide that they must call Gramma, immediatelythissecond.

Sometimes they preview this demand by calling her on one of the seven hundred fake phones that are lying around the playroom. Sometimes an event or item clearly reminds them of her, but sometimes it's just a random urge.

Occasionally we reach her, and the kids blather away about nothing, illustrating their nonsense themes by pointing at things and gesturing extravagantly. Lumpyhead and Lula inevitably hang up on her during the baton pass between them, so whoever was cruelly cheated out of the chance to dial the phone the first time receives restitution by dialing the second call.

Usually the kids get the answering machine, which they still haven't really figured out. They stare at the handset in a puzzled fashion and mutter a few half-silent phrases before being prompted to SAY SOMETHING TO THE MACHINE. My mother dials us immediately after hearing the message, always mildly distraught that she wasn't there to receive the call (because she was out getting her hair cut or buying groceries or living her life instead of waiting by the phone for the mood to strike a 2.5-year-old and a 4-year-old to call their grandmother).

I don't have the heart to tell her that, while they're confused by the answering machine, the kids aren't disappointed when they don't reach her. The excitement doesn't lie in talking to their grandmother, but rather with pushing buttons. Yes mother, they thought of you. But really? They just like to dial the phone.