Warning: this story contains unplanned, unmediated human contact

As I mentioned the other day, the only reason we maintain a landline is so the kids can call 911 when the weak blood vessel in my brain finally ruptures while I’m screaming at them.

Otherwise, I rely entirely on cellular telecommunication, and really no one has my number if I haven’t given it to them, and since I’m under fifty most of my friends would never be so rude as to call me without opening negotiations first via text message. As a result, I’m totally out of the habit of getting unexpected, non-commercial phone calls.

Tonight I was cleaning up in the kitchen while the children did their homework at the kitchen table, by which I mean they were sulking and complaining about and resisting doing their homework, when the phone rang.

The landline phone.

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My daughter gashed her forehead open, and it made me think

Warning: this post describes a bloody injury received by a little girl.

Yesterday, I was standing in the kitchen talking to my mother when there came a thud from the living room, where my four-year-old daughter Maya was playing by herself.

It was not a terribly loud or otherwise remarkable thud, but the crying that followed was unmistakably the sound of a frightened little girl, in a lot of pain. Continue reading