Our phone number used to belong to a popular local family because it generates lots of wrong numbers. This morning’s sleet generated the following call:
Ring.
“Hello.”
A young girl’s voice. “Canchristinacomeoutandplay?”
I’m still a little groggy. “Uh, can you say that again?”
Voice, now irritated. “Can Christina come out and play?”
Another wrong number, I realize. “Um, I’m afraid you’ve got the wrong number.”
“Whatever,” sighs the girl dismissively. Click.
This isn’t the first time this girl’s made this mistake, too. I’m thinking Christina will have met a terrible fate the next time this kid calls.