Okay, kick me into Ehell.
First bad: A bank yesterday called for Chip. It was the bank he was using for his mother's estate account, and now that the estate has finally been settled, he closed the account. Chip said the bank likely wants his business back.
Caller: "May I speak to Chip's Real Name?"
Me: "I'm sorry, he isn't here. May I take a message?"
Caller: "This is Rochelle at XYZ Bank. This is a courtesy call about our products and services. I'll call him at a later time."
Me: "All right, but please don't call during 'American Idol.'"
Click.Second bad: I took Mother out for lunch and shopping today. (Please don't ask me to tell that story; God help me, she wanted to look for socks. *strangling noises*) I picked her up and was purposely playing Chris Daughtry's CD. Mother adored Chris Daughtry on Idol last year. However, I could see Mother wasn't pleased at the pounding, pulsating music.
Me: "Mother, do you know who this is?" (indicating the CD player)
Mother: "No."
Me: "It's someone you like."
Mother: "I don't like THAT kind of music."
Me: "But Mother, you said you liked him all last year. You told me more than once."
Puzzled look from Mother.
Me, showing her the CD case: "It's Chris Daughtry! Remember, the one you liked from American Idol?"
Mother: "Oh! That's Chris?" Pause. "Well, he sounds pretty good."
I guess that was my payback for sassing the telemarketer.
Gad, it's been such a day. *more strangling noises*
(However, I'm very proud that my hometown boy, Chris Sligh, is safe so far on Idol. He was in the group that peformed "How Deep is Your Love?", which blew Chip and me away!
)
