A Tale of Two Texts
Last Sunday was Sibling Dinner. I spent all week long reminding my siblings so they would show up and enjoy good food and good company.
Sunday came. I'd already confirmed with Eliza that she and her entourage were coming, but I knew there was a good chance Wesley would forget. Being the ever considerate older sister, I texted him a reminder, then went on my merry way to ward Break the Fast (yes, I ate a meal before our sibling meal).
When I got home, I checked my phone. I had a missed called and voicemail from Wesley. He had called asking about Sibling Dinner. Maybe he didn't get my text, I thought. It's possible it could have disappeared into cyberspace somewhere. So I again texted him and said dinner was at 5:30.
A couple of minutes later I got a text from Eliza that read, "Coming." Strange, thought I. I didn't know she needed to announce her travel plans.
The Boone clan showed up, and Eliza and posse showed up, and we all started eating, drinking, and being merry.
I was sitting on my piano bench, happily chatting away, when out of nowhere it hit me: I hadn't texted Wesley. Both times I'd typed in Eliza's speed dial.
It suddenly explained her text.
I leapt from my bench, dashed into the kitchen, and yanked open my cupboard, where my phone had taken up temporary residence. A quick check showed that yes, indeed, I had texted my sister TWICE and had yet to text my brother.
I called him immediately and showered apologies upon his poor ears.
Fast forward to Saturday. It was our annual trip to Cornbelly's, which we always start with a big old breakfast. Wesley was late due to last minute insanity (he ran a 5K), but eventually called and asked where we all were (he thought we were at my house; we were at Shannon's). I agreed to forward him the address; we hung up and I scrolled through my contacts, selecting Wesley to send the text to.
Half an hour passed and he still hadn't shown up. It only takes about four minutes to get from my house to Shannon's. I called him again, hoping he wouldn't be mad at my pestering, but determined to find out where he was.
"Where are you?" asked I.
"You never sent the address," responded he.
"I did too!" I insisted.
"Nope," was the response.
"Fine. I'll send it again."
And we hung up.
That's when it hit me: there are two Wesleys in my address book.
Sure enough, I'd sent the address to Wesley my hairdresser, not Wesley my brother.
>.<
Times like these, I wonder who decided I should be the technology immersion teacher at my school.
"It's like sister-wives, but with different husbands!" ~~Quote wall
Sunday came. I'd already confirmed with Eliza that she and her entourage were coming, but I knew there was a good chance Wesley would forget. Being the ever considerate older sister, I texted him a reminder, then went on my merry way to ward Break the Fast (yes, I ate a meal before our sibling meal).
When I got home, I checked my phone. I had a missed called and voicemail from Wesley. He had called asking about Sibling Dinner. Maybe he didn't get my text, I thought. It's possible it could have disappeared into cyberspace somewhere. So I again texted him and said dinner was at 5:30.
A couple of minutes later I got a text from Eliza that read, "Coming." Strange, thought I. I didn't know she needed to announce her travel plans.
The Boone clan showed up, and Eliza and posse showed up, and we all started eating, drinking, and being merry.
I was sitting on my piano bench, happily chatting away, when out of nowhere it hit me: I hadn't texted Wesley. Both times I'd typed in Eliza's speed dial.
It suddenly explained her text.
I leapt from my bench, dashed into the kitchen, and yanked open my cupboard, where my phone had taken up temporary residence. A quick check showed that yes, indeed, I had texted my sister TWICE and had yet to text my brother.
I called him immediately and showered apologies upon his poor ears.
Fast forward to Saturday. It was our annual trip to Cornbelly's, which we always start with a big old breakfast. Wesley was late due to last minute insanity (he ran a 5K), but eventually called and asked where we all were (he thought we were at my house; we were at Shannon's). I agreed to forward him the address; we hung up and I scrolled through my contacts, selecting Wesley to send the text to.
Half an hour passed and he still hadn't shown up. It only takes about four minutes to get from my house to Shannon's. I called him again, hoping he wouldn't be mad at my pestering, but determined to find out where he was.
"Where are you?" asked I.
"You never sent the address," responded he.
"I did too!" I insisted.
"Nope," was the response.
"Fine. I'll send it again."
And we hung up.
That's when it hit me: there are two Wesleys in my address book.
Sure enough, I'd sent the address to Wesley my hairdresser, not Wesley my brother.
>.<
Times like these, I wonder who decided I should be the technology immersion teacher at my school.
"It's like sister-wives, but with different husbands!" ~~Quote wall