Shirley?

The phone rings and I answer, "Hello?"

"Shirley?" rasps the woman on the other end. Oh no! I cringe. It's the Shirley-lady again.

"No, I'm sorry. There is no-one by that name living here."

"Oh. Ok." Click.

I wait. Yes, there it is; the phone rings again. I let the machine pick it up. I wait, but there is no message.
****

Every so often an elderly lady calls our house and asks for Shirley. No-one named Shirley lives here, and I've had this number for almost five years! I used to engage the woman in more dialogue consisting of giving her my number, asking if this is the number she meant to dial, and where Shirley might live (as it might be an area code issue). One day she called me FIVE TIMES IN A ROW, despite my increasing impatience as I explained she was dialing the wrong number over and over.

Now the calls are limited to about once every other months or so. Or maybe it's as a new holiday approaches. I think I'll start writing it down.

I wonder if she ever does talk to Shirley? Or does she only get to talk to me each time?

Whoa!

I know I've read too many essays in one day when I see these words:

Babies are hard to warm up because they've been refrigerated

In fact, there were two sentences on the page (the essay is about types of babies' personalities):

"The slow to warm up baby does have a tendency to cry, but mostly because they [sic] are frightened."

Whew. Sort of...