The mysteries of caller ID, still unsolved.

I can’t write a blog about learning to sew without mentioning my Grandmother, my mentor in this en devour. She got caller ID for the first time yesterday. I know. It’s like a whole new world opening up to her. I thought “Great! It will keep her busy!” But what my subconscious was busy laughing was “It will keep YOU busy”.

This afternoon she called me, wanting to know how many times I called her from work. “Just the once,” I assured her. (She was briefly left in charge of my son’s care, which makes me very, very nervous). “Well, it didn’t show up as your number. It’s a different number.” I tried to explain to her four times, over the course of the next five minutes, that while I did in fact call from my number, it shows the business’s main number and not my personal extension.

“But I have a missed call from that number at your work and I don’t know anyone at that number but you.”

“That number was me, Grandma.”

“But I didn’t miss your call? Or did you call again?”

“No, I didn’t call again. That number is the number that shows up when I call you, even if I call you from my line. It wasn’t my call you missed. There must have been one before me that you missed.”

After having that conversation two, three, four times, I stopped cooking my son’s chicken for supper and set it on the table, to go over there and try to win back some of my sanity. I showed her the fun little arrow button and how it shows you all of the previous calls received on that line.

She kept asking me “who’s that?”

“I don’t know. They are your calls and not mine.”

She went to retrieve her reading glasses, but then still had me read them all out to her and then want me to explain who they were.

“That’s AT&T, the wonderful people who gave you the caller ID. Do you remember talking to them?”

“Well, I don’t know who that is. Maybe they are a salesperson.”

“That’s your son.”

My grandmother, who is very woe-is-me-no-one-ever-calls-me, got more phone calls today than I got in the last month. And I got to tell her who they all were and “No, I don’t think you should call back that 924 number.”

When I got back to my house and to Riley’s supper, I sat him down to an empty plate. My dog had jumped up and eaten all the chicken off of the plate on the table. I turned off the phone and started over.

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2 Responses to The mysteries of caller ID, still unsolved.

  1. Judy says:

    Well I would say you saved me the aggravation of explaining Caller ID to her but I know she’ll still have me showing her again! By Friday she will have forgotten everything you showed her!

  2. Tracie says:

    I really should have my grandmother call your grandmother… really 🙂

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