Phone call

As you may gather, 9pm is not actually my bedtime, but my mother thinks it is. Sometimes she thinks it's 8pm. Basically, whenever I don't pick up the phone for whatever reason, after 7pm, she figures it's because I've turned in. So why she insists on regularly calling me close to or past her idea of my bedtime is beyond me. Why she insists on calling me past her idea of my bedtime to ask me questions to which we've discussed the answers many times, is doubly beyond me. And no, it wasn't when I leave for vacation or whether I've put on weight, but it was close enough to what should be my bedtime that I was in no mood for a regurgitated conversation.

A.: Hello?
Mom: Hello. [To my father, but into the phone] PICK UP THE PHONE!
A.: Mom, could you not scream in my ear please?
Mom: Must you take that tone?
A.: How many times have I asked you not to do that??
Mom: So?
A.: So, it hurts my ear. Please don't do it anymore.
Mom: Anyway, do you have cable?
A.: No.
Mom: No?? What do you have?
A.: Mom, we've discussed this. I don't have a TV.
Mom: I'm not talking about a TV, and so what if we've discussed it. How do you get internet?
A.: DSL.
Mom: What's that?
A.: You know what DSL is, and not only because we've had this conversation several times.
Mom: It goes through a modem?
A.: Yes.
Dad: So, you plug it into the phone jack?
A.: Well, I could, but I use wireless. By way of DSL.
Dad: I see.
Mom: That's all. Goodnight, then.
A.: Goodnight.