The Case of the Mystery Caller

I had a problem for a while with accidental voice mails. I would get several of these inadvertent voice mails every week, sometimes several in one day. They were long and full of vague background noises. Obviously someone was accidentally dialing my phone.



My Stepmom used to do that. I'd answer the phone and hear her yelling out the answers to Jeopardy somewhere in the distance. I knew it was her because her name showed up the caller ID. And because she always misses all the literature questions, but she nails Potpourri. There's meaning in there somewhere, I just can't quite grasp it.



But later when I started getting these 10 times a week accidental voice mails, it always said "restricted number". No help. But it had to be someone who had me on speed dial. Someone I knew, one would hope. I listened carefully for clues. There was a lot of chatter and whooshing noises. Ooh, and maybe a fax machine? Or just screechy feedback? It sounded like they were calling from an office.



I just couldn't crack the mystery. And the frustrating part is I never heard it ring! I wanted to catch them in the act of accidental dialing so I could yell into the receiver, "HEY MORON! YOU CALL ME LIKE 3 TIMES A DAY AND LEAVE LONG EMPTY MESSAGES! GET A CLUE!" I mean who doesn't know how to use a cellphone?



Then one day I got a break on the case. The beep beep of missed call and a voice mail waiting. I listen. This time the chatter is clearer. Whooshing noises, yes. Fax machine? Screechy feedback? Wait! There's music. I recognize it! It's sounds like the Yodeling song from The Sound of Music. In fact I'm certain of it. The chatter....I distinctly make out the word "Mommy". I look into the backseat of my car. At my children staring up at the video screen. Watching the Sound of Music. I felt all the color drain out of my face as I realized that it wasn't screechy feedback. Or fax machines.



It was me.



Singing along with the Yodeling Goatherd in the Sound of Music. Egads.



When I later told my husband, he laughed for about an hour straight. Then, when he able to speak again, he asked me the obvious question, "How could you possibly be calling yourself 3 times a day without knowing it?!"



My only defense (for the dialing, there is no defense for the singing) is that it's an exposed keypad and it gets mushed in my purse and accidentally speed dials. Myself. Good Lord, is it possible that I wasn't only dialing myself but also other people programmed into my speed dial. And leaving them all messages of my Sound of Music sing-a-longs? Like my brother, my friend Emily, the Macaroni Grill, or my obstetrician's office?



It's a good thing I've been conditioned by a lifetime of goofiness to handle these sorts of things in stride. Otherwise it would have been really embarrassing.



By the way, now I have a flip phone.