If you wanna feel better about your family, just read about ours...

Starring: a dad, a mom, a son & daughter-in-law, a daughter & son-in-law, a teen, a tween, 1 grandson, 3 granddaughters, 3 dogs, and a whole lot of love.

Family Story Pic

Family Story Pic


Thursday, January 11, 2018


A day in your life can be altered with one phone call.
And yesterday, I received one.

I was having a great day. Sitting in the hospital, happily rocking our newborn granddaughter, while a team of student nurses went through some assessments on my daughter for practice. I was half listening to Aubrey answer their series of questions. They'd just begun asking about any family history of mental illness and/or emotional instability when my phone rang.

Since I know you're wondering, we always answer no to those questions and go ahead and wipe that surprised look off your face why don'tcha.

So my phone rang. I was receiving a call from Sexy. (That'd be my husband, Ron, if you're new here.) He was in Missouri on a business trip, so I quietly answered the call. Then a strange man's loud voice told me that he found that phone in a restaurant and got my number in the contact list. THEN, he demanded that I meet him somewhere with $50 to get it back.

So let's review. Me happy, holding newborn, in front of student nurses, no (documented) family history of mental illness and/or emotional instability, husband out of town, stranger calls from my husband's password protected phone, and demands $50 ransom.

This could only mean one thing. My husband had been kidnapped in Missouri. Obviously.

And I responded appropriately.
Cue hysteria.

I don't remember much of what he said or what I said. I think I asked what restaurant? I think I told him Ron's name?

I've seen kidnap shows. Make him real to the kidnappers. He's a person that I love and his name is Ron, dammit...all the while thinking, I don't know who you are, but I will find you, and I will kill you.

Then I basically broke every rule of negotiating with terrorists and hung up.
CURSES! I should've kept him on the line so we could trace the call! *Shaking my fists to the sky*

I broke down and started sobbing and the student nurses mysteriously vanished, probably to avoid having to investigate that whole "mental illness" line of questioning.

I was trying to tell Aubrey and Nick what had happened and realized I needed to call somebody. I couldn't for the life of me remember what co-workers he was going to Missouri with, had no clue where exactly he was, and wasn't about to call his phone back because I don't talk to strangers.

Take note, kids. 46 years old. Rule still applies.

So I called Ron's boss. He'd know what to do.

While I was doing that, a call from my daughter-in-law's phone beeped in.
I didn't answer it.

Ron's boss's voicemail came on just as Barbara's phone began beeping in again and I thought, what if they got her number out of Ron's phone and called her too?

Without leaving a message, I clicked over to answer her call.

It was my son. Laughing.
"Mom? Did you just receive a prank phone call from me?"

Turns out, he'd been sitting in his house eating a bowl of chili, forgot his dad was in Missouri, forgot that I'd be spending the day at the hospital, of course had no way of knowing I'd be sitting in a room full of student nurses, and he decided to use a prank app on his iPhone to hijack my contact list and send me a pre-recorded male voice who wasn't really having a conversation with me, but it just sure as hell seemed like it. It makes sense, doesn't it?

Then it sent him a recording of how the call went, because what fun would it be not knowing how I responded? And then he listened to it. And heard me hang up before I knew it was a prank.

Had I stayed on the line but 2 seconds longer, I would've heard it say I'd been pranked, butttt, my zero family history of emotional instability combined with domino effect...and well, see, some bells can't be unrung.

So he called me, and when I didn't answer, he knew I'd be on the phone calling somebody else.
Now, who would mom call?

He knew I wouldn't call Ron's phone back, because strangers, which left 2 options.
Ron's boss. Or the police.

Both would be bad. One worse than the other. Debatable which one that would be.

Thankfully, I never got a chance to leave his boss a message.
Unless heavy breathing, semi-silent sobbing, and a hiccup constitutes a message?

Ron, who sat completely clueless and un-kidnapped in Missouri, was shockingly unsympathetic to what our boy had done.

"Why didn't you just call me?"


I think I'm beginning to pinpoint that whole family history of mental illness thing here.

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