"Pap-pa?"
"No, baby. We can’t call grandma right now."
She lifts the receiver from its cradle and listens, laughing at the solid tone she hears.
"Pap-pa?" she asks.
"No, baby. That’s not grandma."
"If you’d like to make a call, please hang up and try again…"
"Pap-pa!!" she announces triumphantly.
"No, baby, "that’s definitely not grandma."
"beepeebeepeebeepeebeepeebeepee"
"Oh, sweetie, that’s too loud. Let me turn it off."
Eep. Op. Ork.
"Pap-pa?!?" she inquires, confused by the intermittent beeping that’s replaced the frustratingly loud, angry tone of the unconnected call.
"No, baby. That’s not grandma. Can you turn it off?"
eep. op. ork.
"Almost, baby. You turned it down. We need to turn it off."
eep. op. ork.
"Almost, kid. More. Can you turn it off? Let me have it. I’ll turn it off."
She shies away from my outstretched hand, protecting the receiver from me. She is certain there is someone worth talking to on the other end of the line.
"Al-most?"