Hello Moto

Okay, so I'm pretty sure I've bitched about this before. It's entirely possibly because I bitch about a lot of things, most pertaining to The Paperweight, but I'm just too damn lazy to search through more then a year of Archives to see. Besides, even if I have bitched about it before, it certainly isn't going to stop me from bitching about it again. So suck it up and deal with it.

I hate cell phones.
With a passion.
Yes, I have a cell phone.
I've had it less then two years though.
Which is two years less then The Boy has had one, actually.
My first cell phone was The Boy's old one. He had bought himself a new one and his old was forced upon me one evening when my car broke down an hour's drive from home and I was several hours late picking up The Boy and he was worried I was dead or something (his words, not mine; melodramatic much?) I broke it though and had to get a new one…only about 3 or 4 months ago, actually. But, like The Boy's, there is no plan. It's one of those prepaid deals so we only put on minutes as we need them. Which for me, isn't very often. I only have to add 100 minutes about ever 3 months or so because my cell phone is FOR EMERGENCIES ONLY (and the occassional dirty text message to The Thing, but that's neither here nor there).

The Boy is quite clear on the understanding of 'emergency'. Missed the bus and need me to pick you up at the school on my way home? Call the cell. You're bored and want to tell me what about something cool you saw on TV? Call my cell and I'll whack you upside the back of the head when I get home. He knows this. He gets this. He's a good boy.

The Paperweight doesn't get this. He's never gotten this. Two years after getting my cell, just this week, I faced this situation:
Me & kids sitting in restaurant having dinner.
My cell phone vibrates.
Me: [wincing as I see Paperweight's name pop on the screen]
The Boy: Don't answer. You know it's something stupid.
Me: The one time I don't answer, it will be an emergency.
Me: [answering the phone] Hello?
Paperweight: [yelling. Something he does on all phones all the time. Annoyance #312] HELLO?!?!
Me: [trying to stay quiet because I loathe people who talk on cells in restaurants] Yes? What do you need?
Paperweight: [yelling louder. He thinks that if you speak softly that means you can't hear him. Retard, I know] HELLO?!?! ARE YOU OKAY?!?!!
Me: Yes. I'm fine. [holding ear piece away from my ear and getting annoyed now] What do you need?!
Paperweight: NOTHING! I CALLED THE HOUSE AND YOU WEREN'T HOME SO I THOUGHT MAYBE SOMETHING WAS WRONG!

Please, let us pause and offer a moment of silence for the death of The Paperweight's last remaining brain cell.
Rest in peace.
Amen.

No, we did not have plans or anything involving the kids in which I was expected to be home at that time.
No, it is not rare that we go out to dinner. We go out at least once a week (I loathe to cook).
No, it is not rare that we leave the house at all. We are out more often then not; one of things that both the kids and I have reveled in since The Paperweight's been gone because he never went out or did anything (hence the name Paperweight. Ah-ha! you say)
So…yeah…time to re-start the "Paperweight's an ass" counter…

AND…
I think I'm going to change my outgoing voicemail message. How does this sound?

Hi! You've reached Fauve's cell phone which is for emergency use only. If this is an actual emergency, please hang up and call back and I'll answer the phone. If this is not an emergency, please call [insert home phone number here]. If you are not 100% sure whether this is an emergency or not, please leave a message after the beep and I'll call you back as soon as possible after I'm done laughing at your stupid ass.

BEEP!