Rangoon and Telephoon

(Day 81 of 112)

I now empathise with women belonging to the age before cell phones. And I now understand why a single phone call from Rangoon was cause enough for the chica in question to break into song and dance.

All day today the Fellow’s cell phone was unreachable. And while I’m not the possessive, clingy and i-want-a-minute-by-minute-account-of-what-you’re-upto kind of wife, it still frustrated me that I couldn’t get through. This frustration was eventually replaced with worry and concern and pacing around the room kind of girly behaviour (marriage has ruined me I tell you). And witnesses to all these emotions (which I tried very hard, yet unsuccessfully, to keep hidden under random chatter and loud TV volumes) were the in-laws. Interestingly the FIL shared the worry and the MIL was simply amused (Note: I seem to amuse them a lot. Hmm).

About 9 pm the Fellow called. Apparently his phone gave up on him and refused to restart. He also forgot my new number so couldn’t call (typical). He was also stuck working all day and didn’t have time to breath. Hmmm. But I’m a trusting wife and thus I believed him – 15 minutes later.

Why? Simple. You see, from the second I heard his voice I went from being the worried and fretful spouse and jumped directly to my angry and an oh-if-i-could-just-get-my-hands-around-your-neck-mode, the kind the Fellow knows to avoid for his own safety.

But I couldn’t help thinking that if this was the black and white era, the Fellow’s voice would have brought out the singer and me and I would have rushed to the closest tree branch and belted out (in my most romantic and sappy voice) “Mere Piya Gaye Rangoon, Kiya Hai Vahan Se Telephoon…”