This is not a morose entry. 

It really isn't.  I have decided anything I write about my mother or father will be upbeat and celebrate their living instead of mourning them ahead of time. 

I called my mom before bedtime the other night to make sure everything was ok.  We chatted a bit, then she said - hold on!  i'll be right back.
 
So I held on.  I could hear her in the background.  She stepped on the puppy's foot, apparently, because it yelped and she was cooing to it, "Poor baby.  I'm sorry.  It's ok, it's ok."  Now, you should know, my mother does not like dogs.  Well, she does - but outside only.  But this one she particularly likes because it's so small.

So I waited for her to finsish comforting the dog.  In a bit, I heard her doing dishes.  She had forgotten she had me on the line.  I waited a few more minutes and decided, well, she'll have to hang up the phone.  I'll get her attention.  So I whistled.  Loudly.  Nothing.  I whistled again.  Nothing.  This went on for about 5 minutes, and finally, I shouted into the phone:   JAN!

And she shouted - WHAT??

PICK UP THE PHONE!

I have no clue whose shout she thought she was answering, but "phone" jogged her memory.  She said, You scared me!  I've been outside trying to find where that whistling was coming from!

She laughed, so I figured it was ok if I did, too.  It was funny, but not funny, if you know what I mean.

And now she wants to play bingo online with me, so I will close this.