The telephone sitting atop a counter filled with random papers, mail, dirty cups, hair-ties, necklaces, earrings, hand sanitizer, duct tape, leftover food, books, homework, forgotten crafts, pencils, pliers, etc… rings a melodious tune. Once it is found, Caller ID reads ‘Unknown name, Unknown number.’
“Deanna, answer it,” says Kristi.
“Okay.”
I pick up the phone and clear my throat.
“Hola?”
Yes, I said ‘hola.’ For those of you who don’t know what that means, it’s Spanish for hello. ‘Why Spanish?’ you may ask. The answer is simple, but before I tell you, see how the person on the other line responded.
“Hello, may I speak to Anthony or Juliana Nootson?”
Did you figure it out? In our house you never give a parent the phone if someone can’t pronounce our last name. It’s a rule of survival, otherwise, when they ask for money, you’ll get in trouble.
“No comprenda.”
A long pause, “Okay, thank you,” And the line is dead.
I hang up the phone with a smile on my face and recap what happened to my sister, Kristi. We laugh and joke, although I was disappointed I wasn’t able to talk like I did last time…
“Spley?”
“Yes, may I speak to Anthony or Juliana Nootson?”
“Splutenta eh shor can ble nostic tro senta figmeb?”
Now, I can’t say that’s exactly what I said; in fact I know that’s not what I said. But it’ll work.
“Ummm.”
“JUMENDI PAN SO MANI LOKENDA TRUMENZA E PLUTONTEY SEE MANDIGRINALDE!!!!!!!!”
So you’re reading this now, thinking, ‘Oh, that girl!’ I know, I know, although I really can’t regret doing that because it was extremely fun. Next time though, I’ll be sure to be nicer.
Oh, but there was this other time. I, personally, think it’s the best.
Since I can’t really speak Spanish I will tell this story with little dialogue. Kristi and I were together, and the phone rang. ‘Unknown name, Unknown number.’ Kristi once again asked me to answer it, and I once again agreed. No rude gibberish this time, so I began with ‘hola.’ When the man asked for my parents in my unpronounceable last name, I replied with ‘No comprenda.’ There was a pause for a moment and I assumed he hung up, but just as I was about to, there was a weird noise on the other end of the line. He was speaking Spanish back to me! I had no clue what to do, but that’s the good thing about phones: you can hang up on people.
So an unpronounceable last name allows you to know when to give your parents the phone, and if you don’t have to, you can have some fun.
Do you ever wonder what happens if we are scared half to death twice?
“Deanna, answer it,” says Kristi.
“Okay.”
I pick up the phone and clear my throat.
“Hola?”
Yes, I said ‘hola.’ For those of you who don’t know what that means, it’s Spanish for hello. ‘Why Spanish?’ you may ask. The answer is simple, but before I tell you, see how the person on the other line responded.
“Hello, may I speak to Anthony or Juliana Nootson?”
Did you figure it out? In our house you never give a parent the phone if someone can’t pronounce our last name. It’s a rule of survival, otherwise, when they ask for money, you’ll get in trouble.
“No comprenda.”
A long pause, “Okay, thank you,” And the line is dead.
I hang up the phone with a smile on my face and recap what happened to my sister, Kristi. We laugh and joke, although I was disappointed I wasn’t able to talk like I did last time…
“Spley?”
“Yes, may I speak to Anthony or Juliana Nootson?”
“Splutenta eh shor can ble nostic tro senta figmeb?”
Now, I can’t say that’s exactly what I said; in fact I know that’s not what I said. But it’ll work.
“Ummm.”
“JUMENDI PAN SO MANI LOKENDA TRUMENZA E PLUTONTEY SEE MANDIGRINALDE!!!!!!!!”
So you’re reading this now, thinking, ‘Oh, that girl!’ I know, I know, although I really can’t regret doing that because it was extremely fun. Next time though, I’ll be sure to be nicer.
Oh, but there was this other time. I, personally, think it’s the best.
Since I can’t really speak Spanish I will tell this story with little dialogue. Kristi and I were together, and the phone rang. ‘Unknown name, Unknown number.’ Kristi once again asked me to answer it, and I once again agreed. No rude gibberish this time, so I began with ‘hola.’ When the man asked for my parents in my unpronounceable last name, I replied with ‘No comprenda.’ There was a pause for a moment and I assumed he hung up, but just as I was about to, there was a weird noise on the other end of the line. He was speaking Spanish back to me! I had no clue what to do, but that’s the good thing about phones: you can hang up on people.
So an unpronounceable last name allows you to know when to give your parents the phone, and if you don’t have to, you can have some fun.
Do you ever wonder what happens if we are scared half to death twice?
