As often as I try to explain to Jim the Father that the I-Phone 4 has drawbacks, there are moments when one must just let their fledgling chicks flail on their own and make the oft-unexplained "butt call." As the younger generation explains it to me, the "butt call" is the call that happens when your phone is pressed on by your, um, derriere and unexplained signals go into the universe (no, they were not caused by fiber-rich foods) as your phone is leaned upon.
So this morning when Grayson and I returned from preschool we were welcomed by the flashing light of the answering machine informing us of a new message. We listened. We heard lots of swishing and swashing and unintelligible noises. Some of them sounded suspiciously like Babaw...Grayson's beloved grandpa traveling in Nantucket. And then we realized, like slowing dawning light...we were butt-called.
And so Babaw was confronted.
And Babaw was concerned.
But this email needed to be sent anyway:
Your butt revealed startling truths related to Deep Throat and the Watergate scandal. There were also references to Kenneth Starr’s investigation of Bill Clinton. Thanks for the helpful hints about how to get horseradish stains out of khakis, and the way you pontificate on the political situation in Bangladesh is especially insightful. I’m not sure I agree with your thoughts on Hart Crane’s poetry, but you nailed it as you discussed so eruditely transubstantiation and the arguments of the Catholic Church. I also heard some Gordon Lightfoot lyrics and an artfully arranged version of Peter, Paul and Mary’s “Leaving on a Jetplane”, and a poignant rendition of “Home on the Range.” That was your voice, right? And not another part of your anatomy? It was hard to tell.
All in all, we’ve been gathered around the answering machine all night, replaying and replaying your prophetic words.
Glad your coming home to your family who love you both so much.
Consider this a public service announcement, for you never know who your rear will phone if given the chance.