Brrrrrrring! Mom, it's for you...

My kids love the phone. None of them were ever fooled by the realistic-looking Barney phone, and for that matter the FisherPrice keys and carseat steering wheel attachment weren't big hits either.

Kye runs around with it clutched in his chubby hands, turning it onoffonoffonoffonoff. He lives for the moment when the automated message finally comes on.

"We're sorry, we are unable to complete your call as dialed."

Rascal punches in random numbers, talks to whomever picks up and then abruptly hangs up on them. So far we haven't been *69'd. He's a sweettalker.

Tweenie always answers with an enthusiastic "Oh, hi!", except when Husband calls from work. I always know it's him when I hear her say, "Uh, who is this?"

Today I was scrubbing the toilet. I heard her chattering to someone, assumed it was BFF. Eventually she came upstairs to find me.

"Mom, phone's for you."
"Kinda busy here, who is it?"
"I have no idea. Somebody important."
"Find out who it is, please."
"Mom, they asked for Mizz Rain. It's someone really important."

This whole conversation passed with her waggling the phone in my face, the caller listening in on our exchange. I sighed. It seems we have such a freakish last name that no one can pronounce it. I had a sneaking suspicion about this one.

"Hello, ma'am! May I say what a pleasure it is to speak to someone who doesn't hang up right away! I'm calling with a very special offer tod--"

An earnest discussion followed, with the take-home message that anyone inquiring for the "Rain" family is not a desired caller. Yeesh.