doris day, pillow talk, phone, conversation, talking, happy, bed

Answering the phone is an act of love

If you call me and I answer the phone, it means one of two things. Either you are a plumber and I am DESPERATE for you to HELP me. Or you are my kid’s school. Or I really, really like you. Like, really like you. Because who calls anyone? And who picks up?

So. If the phone rings and someone answers, feel happy. Feel honoured. That’s the first thing to know – your call has been answered where most would have been dropped. Absorb that compliment.

And then – please – don’t be a pain in the arse. All entitled and sulky. If someone answers only to say that they can’t talk, they still answered. They didn’t hit decline. They didn’t do that awful, convenient, here’s-one-I-made-earlier, pre-packaged text thing of, “Sorry I can’t talk right now” which makes everyone feel like chopped liver. They answered the phone which means that – in the middle of a hectic life – they can deal with your voice. They can face the prospect of you.

And know this: If you get demanding about phone time and cross when someone has to go or it slips their mind to call you back then, slowly but certainly, the phone will no longer be answered. You will ooze into terrorist friend territory where handling the guilt of not talking to you is easier than handling you.

If you call me and I answer the phone, that is a declaration of love. And, for now, in the rush hour of everything, please let that be enough.

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