Sometimes our little girl is more like a teenager than a toddler and we get so used to her above-age shenanigans that we forget she's only four (almost five!). Recently Madam has progressed from guided conversation on the phone to dialing the number and chatting away with the barest of parental oversight. Nanny is the primary recipient of her calls and she's almost at the stage where she's memorised the number. We still have hiccups, like sometimes forgetting to hang the phone up properly, but she's getting better all the time.
This week Daddy is away on business and she loves checking in with him so she can hear his "beautiful voice". She dials while I recite the number but, unfortunately, Daddy doesn't always answer because he turns his mobile off while he's at work. I never thought about this beyond warning her that he might not be there and telling her to hang up if he didn't answer. I didn't even think about the missing piece of vital information she'd need to be making those calls.
Last night I had half an ear out while she tried to call Daddy for the third time. She'd wandered into the lounge room and I wasn't really listening for anything other than confirmation of him answering the phone. Suddenly she exploded and started yelling into the phone.
"Why do you keep saying that?! Why won't you just talk to me! ARGH!"
And with that little roar of frustration she clicked the phone off and stormed back into the kitchen.
"Daddy is being so rude. I keep calling him and when he answers he won't talk to me he just tells me to leave him a message and he'll call me back!"
Whoops. I have now told Madam all about how voicemail works.
This week Daddy is away on business and she loves checking in with him so she can hear his "beautiful voice". She dials while I recite the number but, unfortunately, Daddy doesn't always answer because he turns his mobile off while he's at work. I never thought about this beyond warning her that he might not be there and telling her to hang up if he didn't answer. I didn't even think about the missing piece of vital information she'd need to be making those calls.
Last night I had half an ear out while she tried to call Daddy for the third time. She'd wandered into the lounge room and I wasn't really listening for anything other than confirmation of him answering the phone. Suddenly she exploded and started yelling into the phone.
"Why do you keep saying that?! Why won't you just talk to me! ARGH!"
And with that little roar of frustration she clicked the phone off and stormed back into the kitchen.
"Daddy is being so rude. I keep calling him and when he answers he won't talk to me he just tells me to leave him a message and he'll call me back!"
Whoops. I have now told Madam all about how voicemail works.
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