Libby is Mom's friend from college. She is also the mother of Donal, the boy who looked exactly like Nick Jonas until he shaved all his hair off. He did look better with a bit more hair, but it came off because he told a friend with one of those awful semi-pubescent kind-of-beards that if he shaved the beard, Donal would shave the skull, so I have to credit Donal with a certain amount of altruism, as one less badly bearded boy breeds a better world. Her daughter, Alba, is only eleven but already has bigger feet than me. Her husband is named Sherman. They live near Boston, so we were spending the night there.
"Yeah, sure."
"Great." Mom dialed and passed the phone to me.
"Hi," said a male voice.
"Oh, hello, it's Tea and [Tea's Mom]," I said to the voice. "It's Sherman," I told Mom.
"Oh, tell him we'll be there in an hour," said Mom, at the exact same time Sherman said, "No, it's Donal."
I started talking. "Oh, well, I heard I guy, so I assumed-"
"Yeah, I'm not my Da-"
"Sorry. I just got confused and thought that-"
"Tell him we'll be there are 4:40!" said Mom.
"It's not Sherman, it's Donal!"
"Tell him anyways!"
"Okay! Donal, our GPS is forecasting an estimated arrival time of 4:37."
"Alright."
"Yeah."
"Well, we're at home."
"That's good."
"Yeah."
"I kind of figured you were at home, since this is the home phone."
"Well, we'll still be here."
"Okay. Um. Bye."
"Bye."
We both hung up.
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