When At&t gave me my new phone number it was apparently not new at all. For weeks I have been receiving calls for a man named Jeff. Jeff works in Real Estate. "Jeff, return my phone calls." I never pick up, I never call back. Bob was waiting for Jeff at some point, last Thursday. Today everyone keeps calling to wish Jeff a Happy Thanksgiving.
Baby Buddy is here now. My true family on all holidays spent in New York: a 2 year old golden doodle. We will go for a walk after I make phone calls to relatives.
My roommate is making stuffing. Kari is coming over with Buddy's best friend, Doc.
Maybe this will become a blog about animals. As my mother used to say "Animals are our friends, we don't eat our friends."
I should just answer the phone and say I am Jeff's wife or girlfriend or mistress. I should say he is making the turkey and I am terribly bored and that Jeff doesn't care about the genocide of the Native Americans.
I will sob on the phone to Jeff's mother, I will find out he has no wife, girlfriend no mistress. His mom won't believe that I'm the sister.
&I'll leave you with this sweet, sweet song my little sweet potatoes
Jeff, whoever you are, Happy Thanksgiving.
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