Monday night, I’m reading the auld laddie a book when the telephone rings. I’m uplifted a bit, since my wife was traveling on business, and both the boy and I thought it was her calling to wish him good night. But it’s not.<\/p>\n
Me:<\/strong> This is Brian.
\nWoman’s slightly garbled voice:<\/strong> Mommy?
\nMe:<\/strong> This is not your mommy.
\nWoman:<\/strong> Mommy, where are you? We can’t find you.
\nMe:<\/strong> She’s not here.
\nWoman:<\/strong> We can’t find her.
\nMe:<\/strong> She’s not here.
\nWoman:<\/strong> Can you help me?
\nMe:<\/strong> No.\n<\/p><\/blockquote>\nI hung up. At first, I didn’t know if the woman (not a girl) was on drugs or what, but I think she was distraught. The boy was agitated; he heard the whole exchange because I answered the phone on speaker as is my wont. When I didn’t hear the my wife’s voice, I immediately became curt and guarded. I didn’t know if this was some sort of prank or what. Maybe it was some distraught daughter calling her mother’s cell phone and distraughtedly reaching my home phone at 7:10. I dunno.<\/p>\n
So I was an ass, I suppose. I don’t know how I could have helped her over the phone except to tell her to call the police. And maybe have been a little more polite. But I’m the suspicious sort and guarded, so my default setting is “ass.”<\/p>\n