Tuesday, March 27, 2012
After church one day, Damon got my cell phone out to call his dad. He dialed the number, and a deep voice answered.
"Hi, Dad!" he chirruped cheerfully.
There was a bit of a pause. "Who is this?" the deep voice finally asked.
Ha ha ha. Damon laughed. His dad could be such a kidder. "This is Damon - your son!"
The pause stretched as long as 8 seconds on the back of a bull, only a whole lot quieter. At last the deep voice, quavering just a little, said hopefully, "Um, this is Tom Smith."
Damon laughed again, just a little embarrassed. "Oops, sorry. Wrong number!"
Somewhere, a man named Tom carefully placed his cell phone back in its holder, hands and knees shaking like frozen molasses in an earthquake. Wrong number. It was just a wrong number.