Faulty Intelligence

Before I tell the brief story, I have to preface it with a reassurance to my dear stepdad Spike... you see, I'm sure that what happened, was that somehow when I signed off my Yahoo messenger last night, it didn't "take" or something, and showed that I was online. It's the only possible explanation for this morning, since he's not what you'd call a mental lightweight in any sense of the word - the man is retired military intelligence, after all, of the genuine "I-could-tell-you-but-then-I'd-have-to-kill-you" variety. So yes, Yahoo must have been falsely showing me as online.

At 7:45 this morning, which for me is an ungodly hour on a weekend (and a barely tolerable hour on a weekday as I'm driving to the office), my cell phone rang. Not even able to open my eyes enough to read the display, I flipped it open and croaked out a hello... Now, this is the one place where his normally sharp instincts failed, because in an entirely too cheerful voice, he began to tell me how he was e mailing me the recipe for flan that I'd requested, because "you're online right now, aren't you?" I'm not quite sure what I managed to growl out, but at that point I guess he remembered the one major difference between my mother and I... namely, that she is a morning person, while I most certainly am not.

Now, I adore my stepdad, really I do... but when that brief "hello" when answering the phone, sounds eerily similar to Joe Cocker after a hard night of partying... yeah... I think you're the victim of faulty intelligence information.

But man, that flan is goooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooood...