My Daughter Sucks at Telling Stories…Or Maybe She’s Great at it.
THE SATURDAY MORNING PHONE CALL FROM COLLEGE IS WRAPPING UP.
Leslie (wife, mother, dominant partner in most ways): So what’s on tap for today?
Daughter (1st Year College Student living on a new coast. On speaker): Jessie is going to get a tattoo, so I’m going along for emotional support.
Me: Who’s Jessie?
Daughter: OK, bye!
TWO HOURS LATER, LESLIE AND I ARE IN THE CAR. LESLIE IS DRIVING. HER CAR. (SEE?) DAUGHTER CALLS.
Me: Hey! What’s up?
Daughter (On Speaker): Remember how I said I was going with Jessie for support getting a tattoo?
Leslie (Suddenly alert): Yes.
Me: Who’s Jessie?
Daughter: Well, we went down to the tattoo place and there were all these designs in the window and there was some really cool stuff…
Leslie and Me (Feeling DEFCON 2, trying to act DEFCON 4): Uh huh…
Daughter: And Jessie was nervous about getting it done and I wanted to show my support…
Leslie and Me (Feeling DEFCON 1.5 acting DEFCON 2): Yeah…
Daughter: But because of COVID, they wouldn’t allow friends to be in the shop just hanging out, so I took a walk (SUDDENLY WITH UNBRIDLED JOY) and found the Ocean! I’m sitting on a bench having a donut and looking at the Ocean! It’s so cool!
Me: You suck at telling stories.
Leslie: You so suck.
Daughter: Oh, Jessie texted. The tattoo is done.
Me: Who’s Jessie?
Daughter: Talk to you later!
