Misunderstood Monday

I called home yesterday to give my mom the good news:
The count of unread email messages in my inbox has reached the triple digits.

In a miraculous leap of Cyber Monday online shopping ads, the tally bumped up to 1000 from 887 virtually overnight.

I knew she'd want in on 30% off Amazon's collection of plush Pillow Pals, so I punched her digits into my beat up blue cell.

"Hello?" Came the home-from-school-suspiciously-early voice of my youngest brother, Tim. 

"Hey! Is mom around?" I asked.

"Um . . . nooooo. I don't think so," he responded, but in his voice I heard what was really to be understood:
"Actually, she's downstairs but I'm busy altering family pictures so I can be misunderstood like Jordan, and I'm too lazy to go get her."

"Right, okay. Can you just leave a message for me then? Tell her it's Cyber Monday."

"Yes Master."

The line went dead and I trudged up to work where I had awkward conversations with married men and broke an $80 vase. Life happens. It was pleasant to see my mother's name on my caller ID as beat-up-blue buzzed on my way back to the security of my wood-paneled abode.

"How was work, Laura? I got your message. Tim told me himself, and he even wrote it down this time! I was really excited to hear that today is Fiber Monday!"

Coincidentally, Raisan Bran is in fact my favorite way to start the week.

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