You would think that after our adventure in the summer, that we would be all done with children playing with phones and getting in trouble. Like, involved with the law trouble. Before you start to say, “what? didn’t you learn something from the last event?”, I will have to say that it really wasn’t a lack of learning from the situation, it just all happened in a string of dumb circumstances.
It started when one of our kiddo’s local friends called our land line. Our land line phone by the way, is stored up high on a wall, in a place where a little guy who knows nothing about numbers, and how phones use them, can reach. When she was done with her call, either she, or her dad lay it down on the computer desk in the livingroom. Unaware of all this, I swooped the kiddo who was on the phone, up, and dashed her to music lessons, then rushed back because I had developed a headache with all the goings on… Oh, I forgot to mention that we also had a visitor. The visitor was not mine, so I quietly retreated to my bed, hoping to calm my pain.
As I lay on my bed and after I took a few deep, calming breaths, I heard a faint beep. Then another. I knew just what that was. Someone was dialing the land line. I knew that it couldn’t be Roger since he was with our visitor, besides, he rarely uses the land line anyway. It couldn’t be our 7-year-old. She isn’t into calling friends yet, and wouldn’t call without help. It must be the little guy! Marley is what I call him sometimes, after the mischievous dog Marley from the book and movie, Marley and Me. I jumped up and raced into the livingroom, and sure enough, Marley had the phone that he found on the computer desk.
In utter fear, I snatched the phone out of his hands and looked at the screen. I had a gut feeling, and it was right. How on the earth did this kid, who knows nothing about numbers, just come up with the random number, 9114? I quickly listened on the receiver, heard nothing but silence, and pushed the ”end” button, just in case he pushed the “talk” button. I was hoping, HOPING that the number wouldn’t work without pushing the talk button… well, at least in this situation. I rushed into the kitchen where Roger and his visitor was, slammed the phone back into it’s base and announced nervously, “I am pretty sure that Marley called 911, but I don’t think that he pushed ‘talk’, so we might be okay”. Then I sheepishly retreated to my bed again.
I was only on my bed for a second or two before the phone rang. Great. Maybe it was a friend, looking for our kiddo that was at music lessons….pleeeease, let it be her! Then I heard Roger say, “I am so sorry, our three-year old was playing with the phone, yes, yes we are okay.” Oh DANG! He did do it. He really did call 911.
Roger doesn’t get embarrassed easily, but this event surely did that to him. You see, he is a volunteer fire fighter, a volunteer EMT in training, and this is a small town. The dispatcher ended the call with, “thank you Roger”. He was quite uneasy since he didn’t know who he was talking to, but the person on the other end seemed to know him quite well. To make it even more embarrassing, his visitor, who had been listening to all that was going on, is the town’s FIRE CHIEF! and his wife works in the sheriff’s office! He got a good chuckle at Roger’s expense!
I am hoping that we are done with the false 911 calls. We are now officially paranoid and make sure the phone is out of his reach at least. We even go to the extent of making sure that the phones in other peoples homes that we visit are out of reach. Oh, Marley, Marley, Marley…. what’s next?