Thursday, February 8, 2007

What's wrong with listening?

My mother called me last night while I was in class (phone was silenced, she left a message). The gist of the message was, "where are you? I sent you an e-mail, check it as soon as you get home and call me as soon as you've seen it."

I called her when I left class (c. 10pm) to say, "I was in class..." which could have deduced because that's where I was when she called last Wednesday at the same time. Notice I said "could have deduced" rather than "should know," because my mother is not one to bother with things like taking note of which days and times I have class (or keeping my address on hand, etc.) Anyway, I told her I'd get home late, not check my e-mail, and call her the next day (today).

This morning I checked the urgent e-mail, a youtube-like clip of a cat repeatedly flushing a toilet for for minutes straight.

I was about to call her when she called me. This conversation ensued:

"Why didn't you call last night?"

"I told you last night I would call you today."

"I was worried! Well, did you watch the clip?"

"Yes, thank you for sending that."

"Why didn't you call? I was worried."

"You were worried because YOU DON'T LISTEN. I said last night, "I'll call you tomorrow."

"You didn't say that."

"Yes, I did. I very deliberately said it because I had no intention of checking my e-mail or calling you or doing anything other than brushing my teeth when I got home after class."

This is not the first time this has happened, if you'll recall the time many years ago she called a then-friend in France at 3am and nearly had the Belgian police looking for me, because she neglected to listen to the message I left her. I'd specifically called her-- I remember it being a particularly expensive call-- to say, "I'm leaving France tonight. I'll be making my way through Belgium and Germany to Denmark; I won't call for the next few days-- I'm telling you this so you won't be worried when you don't hear from me. I'll call you on [specific day of the week] when I get to Copenhagen." I called her on the specified day from Copenhagen-- three days after I'd left the message-- and was greeted with a screaming "WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? WHY DIDN'T YOU CALL? I ALMOST HAD THE BELGIAN POLICE LOOKING FOR YOU. I ALMOST GOT A PSYCHIC TO FIND OUT WHERE YOU WERE!" All I could say was, did you not get my message? She claimed I'd said in my message that I'd call her every day. I claim has a way of hearing what she wants to hear.

So I really had no time for a mini-repeat eight years later. Nonetheless, I insisted I'd told her I'd call today.

"Well, it's today. Why haven't you called?"

"I was about to call you now. I'd had a really busy day..."

"What could be more important than calling me, when you know I'm here worrying about you?"

"I didn't know you were worrying about me. [In spite of experience,] since I told you I'd call today, I had no reason to think you'd worry about me because I didn't call yesterday." I didn't add, 'the cat video was cute, but I didn't think it merited a phone call at an absurd hour.

A couple of "okay, fine!"s later, we said goodbye and hung up. I need to come up with a strategy to overcome my mom's selective hearing habits.

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