The call

"Whee!" Robert yelled, rushing past me and jumping into the clothesbasket. A trail of muddy little footprints was evidence of my toddler's outside adventures. I sighed and watched tiredly as he rolled happily among the freshly washed towels I had just taken from the dryer. He looked like "Pigpen" from the Charlie Brown comics, and my once pristine white towels were dotted with flecks of mud. Well crap, there’s a load I’ll have to do over, I thought. I plucked my objecting child from the basket and was loading the towels in the washer when my phone rang for what I perceived to be the twelfth time in an hour.

On precious few days when I have little to do, the phone sits on the desk silent, like a sullen child being disciplined. "What now?" I fumed, stepping over a tantrum-throwing Robert, who was now flopping on the floor like a fish out of water.

This had better be good. I reached the phone on the fourth ring. “Hello?” I panted into the receiver. I heard background noise and the sound of heavy breathing.

“Hello!” I said louder.

“Pick me up at five today and don’t be late,” a raspy voice whispered into the phone.

“Excuse me?” The sinister voice on the other end of the line sent shockwaves of apprehension throughout my body.

“You heard me. Pick me up at five today and don’t be late.”

Apprehension turned to anger. Who the heck does this creep think he is? “Who is this?” I demanded.

“You know who this is,” the voice whispered.

“Look pervert, if you don’t tell me who you are, I’m going to find you, beat you senseless, then call the cops to find your bruised and mangled carcass.” That’s the way, Deb. Show him he can’t intimidate you.

There was a brief silence on the other end, then the sound of a loud, sometimes whiny, voice I knew so very well. “Mommy, you think I’m a pervert?”

Horrified, I realized it was the voice of my thirteen year-old. He rarely calls me on the phone, and since his voice is starting to change, he was whispering, and calling me from school, I didn’t recognize him.

“On no, baby, of course you’re not. I didn’t recognize your voice, I’m so sorry. Why were you whispering?”

“There was a cute girl around me, and I didn’t want her to know I still call you ‘Mommy’.”

Argh, already the girl problem is starting, I thought.

By the time I picked Seth up from school, the incident was forgotten, or so I thought. “Hey Daddy, guess what?” Seth asked the minute John got home. “Mommy called me a pervert today.”

Hubby eyed me quizzically. “Why did you call him that?”

“Long story,” I said, shaking my head. If you want drama, come to my house and have a seat. You’ll get all the drama you want.