A Story Told (mostly) through Electronic Communication

Because I don’t have time to breath, let alone talk, I had to use texting, facebook and email to communicate all day. And now, I don’t have enough time to write – so you’re getting the eVersion of the story.

Facebook: So, wanna know what happens when you are too busy to go to the doctor about that really bad cold? Pneumonia. Yay me.

    Comment from East Coast Dad: Shocking!
    Comment from East Coast Mom: [Input lots of medical advice here.]
    Comment from East Coast Friend: DISLIKE!
    Comment from 12 other people: Relax! Rest! Lie Down! (you get the drift)
    Comment from Girl Scout Mother: Does this mean the Girl Scout meeting on Tuesday is cancelled?
    Comment from Manhattan Sister: Maybe someone else should run your Girl Scout meeting, what with the long list of comments advising rest?
    Comment from me: Meeting not cancelled, antibiotics will make sure I’m not contagious by then! And rest?!?!? What is this word you speak of?

Text to Manhattan Sister: Oh Qwap! I forgot about Girl Scouts! Did my comment make it look like I knew what was going on?

Facebook: I made it! I made it! I left work in time to get the girls from a birthday party, let them say goodbye 12 thousand times and still make it home before the piano teacher arrived!

Text to Bill: The freakin’ Guinea Pig died.
Text to Bill: Gabby found it.
Text to Bill: Your ex is here for the kids’ lessons. We are burying the guinea pig together. I’m so glad we can share these special moments. When are you coming home?
Text to Bill: Maybe we should lay off the pets for a while.

Text from Bill: So we don’t kill anymore?

Text to Bill: That is neither helpful, nor reassuring.

Text to Manhattan Sister: Ugh! What a day! Can’t wait to just sit down and relax!
Text from Manhattan Sister: You deserv….

Interrupting Text from Bill’s ex: Did you know there’s basketball practice tonight???

Text to Bill’s ex: NO! There is? Yikes! I will take them over if you will pick them up!?

Text from Bill’s ex: Sounds good!

Text to Bill’s ex: Okay. B right there.

Yelling to children upstairs (because they don’t have email): BASKETBALL! NOW! LET’S GO!

Facebook: I’m sorry, Officer. Yes, I do know what a stop sign means, but you see, I learned to drive in Boston, and there we just sorta pause…

Comment from East Coast Dad: Learned to drive?? Really?? Is that what you call it?
Comment from Me: Them's big words coming from the man who was the “teacher” in that experience!

Email from East Coast Dad: You are amazing. In the midst of a day featuring pneumonia, burying a dead f’ing guinea pig…with the ex, and apparently a moving violation, and yet you still see the humor in it. You have an attribute that is rare and valued.

Email Response to East Coast Dad: If I didn’t laugh at it, it would kill me. Plus, the pneumonia meds are turning out to be a sufficient replacement for rum this week…