You love to pretend to talk on the phone. Anything can be a phone: a upside-down walkie talkie, a spatula hanging off the grill, or just your own little balled-up fist.
We have some variation of this conversation about 48 times a day:
You know what you don't like? Talking on the actual phone.
I think you get this from your dad. When we first started dating and I lived in Los Angeles and he was living down in San Diego, by necessity we relied on the telephone to keep in touch throughout the week. It was a real uphill battle for me. Your dad likes to limit his side of any phone conversation to "yeah" (sometimes "yeah?"), "no" and monosyllabic answers to direct, specific questions. If the NSA ever listens in on your dad's conversations, they will learn nothing.
If I'd have known then that one day I would give birth to your dad's mini-me, who would love to talk -but only on the imaginary phone, I would have gone down to San Diego and taped a spatula to your dad's cell phone and told him we were just pretending.
Love,
Mom
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