(no subject)

Phone rings. I check the caller ID. It's my father.
This should be interesting; I just sent him off with Dae an hour ago.
"Hello?"
Heavy breathing. Then, muffled, Papa's voice: "Well. You said you wanted to call her. You gonna talk?"
Then Dae: "Hi, Mama."
(pause while we trip out at how much like me he sounds. I'm so curious what that'll become when his voice breaks. Back to the matter at hand...)
"Hey, baby. What's up?"
"...How do we get to Grammie's?"
?
"There're a few ways. Your Dad Tom knows all of them, though. He's had to get home from lots of places, and that's home to him. Why?"
"Dad Tom says he doesn't know, and I don't remember the directions."
Worried boy is keeping it together, but he's still a worried boy.
(Meanwhile, there's giggling in the background. I inherited/learnt Papa's giggle, pitch and everything; it usually amuses me greatly to hear that high, manic hehehehehee come out from behind his soulsucking moustache. Right now, though? Not so much.)

"Hmph. Dad Tom's lying to you, boo. He's trying to be funny, with debatable results. He does too know where he's going, it's okay."
From the background, merrily: "Which way do we go now, Dae?"
"Um..."
"He knows. Don't let him get to you. Do me a favour, lovey?"
"What?"
"Hand the phone to your grandfather."
"Okey dokey."
"Thank you, baby. I love you."
"Love, love, & puppychow!"

"What?" my father asks. I can hear the grin.
"Damn it, Dad, stop freaking out my kid."
"You're no fun!"
"Not in my job description to be fun. You're scaring him. Quit."
Again with the giggle, a little abashed.
"What'd she say?" Dae asks.
"She's scoldin' me!"
Dae laughs.
Alright. "And drive safe, yeah?"
"As safe as I can. These Alabama drivers are nuts."
"You're tellin' me. I love you guys. Call me if anything goes sideways, alright?"
"Okaybye."
*click*

~facepalm~