Return of the Mommi

"Close your eyes," my mom said to my brother as she came downstairs in her pajamas, carrying a load of laundry she was going to put in.

"I could just look away," he replied.

"Actually," I said as I looked up more than six inches to meet his eyes, "you could just not look down." We all laughed. My mom tried to seem indignant even though there is no disputing my brother's height advantage.

"Yeah Mom, if I don't look down, it is more like a blonde blob bobbing in front of me. Kind of like a blonde ewok." I laughed, encouraging him. He continued, "We'll get you a vest, a spear and a hood and we can call you 'Mum Mum'."

Players

One of my coworkers burst out, "Why do some people even bother giving you their numbers?"

"What do you mean?"

"If they are just screening their calls and sending everything to voice mail, why bother?"

"Actually, that is what productivity experts recommend," I helpfully pointed out.

"Maybe for people who are having all the information demanded from them, but for me, trying to collect the information, I would spend all my time playing phone tag if I didn't take my call." I had to concede his point. "It's like dating," he concluded. "Someone is always playing games."