How to Give SFO Mom a Heart Attack

I walked into the house about half an hour ago. I no sooner had sorted through the mail than the phone rang. Caller ID said it was my great-aunt.

“Hello?”

My mother yells at me, through the phone, in a very raspy voice, “Why didn’t you call me back?”

“I didn’t know you called.”

“Yes! I called! I left you TWO messages on your answering machine. Why didn’t you call me back?”

“I just walked in the door.”

“But I left you TWO messages!”

“I haven’t had time to check the voice mail yet, Mom. I just came in.”

“OH, you just came in.”

Meanwhile I am thinking that my great-aunt, who had a stroke 18 months ago, is in the hospital or worse, since my mother sounds like she has been crying all morning and now is going all hyper on me….

“So what’s the matter with Great-Aunt?”

“Nothing. She wants to know how you can sell furniture on eBay.”

(She’s moving to an apartment in a retirement community and needs to downsize the furniture from her 3-bedroom house.)

I get extra points for remaining calm and not screaming at my mother for scaring me into thinking that Great-Aunt is having some sort of health crisis, but only wants to get rid of a late-1950s chair and a vintage stereo.

“Call an antique shop, Mom….”

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