Matt claims he didn’t ask for an iPhone for his birthday and given that he has the youthful Velcro-like mind, I won’t argue. I thought he had, or maybe I translated his enthusiasm into a a birthday wish.

His phone, ordered online, came the morning of his birthday, but we lied, and said it had not. Goose and I spent half the day switching calling plans and getting a temporary phone number so Matt would have a working phone and not just pretty piece of metal and plastic. There are lots of reasons why it took so long, most of which have to do with my stolen identity which I won’t bore you all with.

Now, how to give him gift? Wrapped in a box next to his cake? I think not. Goose said, “Give me the phone, call me, he’ll hear it ring, I’ll pull it out of my pocket and answer it, and then I’ll say, ‘Matt, it’s for you.’ “ A lover of double entendres I thought how perfect. The call is for him and so is the phone.

Diane and I phoned from the kitchen. Matt’s back was turned to us so we could watch the action, and then sing happy birthday.

The ring tone is that irritating cranking noise.

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