Why it's good to be a voicemail packrat

I was listening to my 6472 voicemails on the way home, when I came across an old saved message from last month that Mom had left. Mom had called to ask a favor from me before we left town. She had been having a bad day since she had run up on the curb that morning and gotten two flat tires and then found out that the bank had messed up her accounts and she was going to have to scramble to fix it before the weekend. Here's a snippet:

Mom's voicemail (only 14 seconds long - totally safe for work as it's my mom talking)

So since I've been having a hard time of it lately, I enjoyed hearing Mom's voice and getting a slice of their sense of humor.

When I pulled into the driveway and opened the front door, I noticed a small travel bag on the steps in the foyer. I had been looking forward to coming home to the Puddin' after a long day and I stormed into the office all pouty-lipped moaning, "You've packed your bag! You can't leave me today, I've had a crappy day."

Rich laughed and quipped back, "No, baby, I'm not leaving today. Not unless I was running away from home only to turn back because I'm not allowed to cross the street by myself." (I later found out the bag was from his trip to the gym.)

And then he took me out for pho and donuts. These are all the things that make me smile on crappy days.