Ain't HIS Job, Man!

Here's a prime example of Farmer-H-ery.

Last evening, I was at the kitchen counter doing something suppery. Farmer H strode through the front door, and the phone started ringing. The phone sits atop the curio cabinet that holds the red depression dish set and another set of china that my grandma gave me. Farmer H was at that moment walking by it on his way to the kitchen.

"Who's that calling?"

"I don't know."

Farmer H could have reached out his arm and answered the phone. He could have turned his head and looked at the phone. He could have simply listened to the speaker saying CALL FROM...Or he could have stood and listened to the message being left.

But he didn't. Farmer H continued into the kitchen, yapping, so that I could not even hear who the call was from. I wiped my hands and went around the corner to check the message, which I also could have heard if Farmer H had stopped droning loudly about something at work.

It was a call from his doctor's office, with the results of his lab tests. Since he wasn't here, he was advised to call the office the next day and ask for them. Which he did today, but that gal was busy, and was supposed to call him back at work, but never did.

So much tomfoolery that could have been avoided, if Farmer H would have assumed some responsibility concerning the telephone in his own home.