My dad and his cell phone have struck again.

As you may know, he is currently in a wheelchair because of some back problems. This is not good. For either one of us, but, that's not the point.

He is an active alum of his high school here in town and doesn't like to miss a football game. Because of my mother's illness the past couple of years, he hasn't been able to attend the games as much as in the past.

After she died this summer, he thought he'd try getting back in the swing of things at the school. His back injury has put a bit of a damper on that, but, his friends have been good about helping him around the events, and, they all meet for dinner before the game.

This week's game was last night, and, I was prepared to take him since there's really no one I can ask to haul him and the wheelchair around.

But, his friend, who is a big muckety-muck at the school, decided he'd come get him for dinner, and, secure him a place to watch the game in his wheelchair. Though he was grateful, my dad just knew that the spot would be on the field, and, he was bitching about that because it's hard to see the game.

When he made it ve-ry apparent (did I mention this whole thing is making him hella kinda grouchy?) that he did not need my help for this adventure, I just decided to let it go and whatever Old and Older (I am joking, but, his friend is kind of a little old man, while my dad really isn't, and, I was concerned about them wrangling the damn wheelchair) wanted to do was fine by me.

So, imagine my surprise when our phone rang about 8pm.

Busy Papa: "Busy Mom?" (Well, actually, he called me by my name, but, that's not the point)
Me: *tries not to crap pants*
Busy Papa: "I'm here at the game, I'm sitting on about the 10 yard line..."
Me (to myself): *crappity, crappity, crappity, he's fallen/got chest pain/can't move his legs and he's giving me instructions on how to find him to take him to the hospital*

Yes, I know. Illogical. Remember, worrying is what I do. You do scrapbooking, I worry. It's kind of the same, only without mounting squares and corner rounders.

Me: "Okaaaayyy..."
Busy Papa: "I've got a really good view of the game and it's almost half-time."
Me: "Okaaaayyyy..."
Busy Papa: "Talk to you later." *click*

I think his phone calls may need their own category.

Well, whad'ya know? This is my 2,500th entry.