My darling blur sister
I was in the bathroom (washing my hands, let me add) when my handphone rang. It was in the depths of my pants pocket. After three repeated rings of Vivaldi’s “Four Seasons” ringtone while I finished washing and drying my hands, I finally dug it out of the pocket and looked at who was calling. It was my sister. But I was in her house.
I cancelled the call, went looking for her and eventually found her in the study, not immediately visible from the door but round the corner and facing towards the bookshelves. She was still holding the cordless phone receiver to her ear.
“Why are you calling? I’m here,” I said to her.
It took her a while before she turned and another while before she realised I was there in the room talking to her in person and not on the phone.
“Oh, I was calling to ask if you were coming for dinner,” she replied. “You came with father, is it?”
“I was in the bathroom … ”
It’s quite a distance from the study to the bathroom (guest bathroom, actually) and the study door was closed, so no wonder she didn’t hear my handphone ringing.
A while later, the cordless phone rang. One of the other three (niece and her two cousins) laughed and said maybe it was my dad calling from the dining room to tell us dinner was ready.
So funny …
