I called my Dad to wish him a happy birthday and I'll be damned if I didn't get the same BS when I called as the last time.

Me: Hello. May I speak to my Dad, please?

Her: Your Dad? Who is your Dad?

Me: Look, do we have to go through this every time I call? Let me speak to my Dad, Robert Charles, Right NOW!

Her: Ooooh...your Dad. Hold on.

Inaudible mumbling and giggles

Dad: So, you done got yourself in trouble again, huh?

I'm sorry, but I am 33 freakin years old. I do not have the time or the inclination to play these childish games. If a grown ass woman calls the house asking to speak to her father, shouldn't they just assume that it's me and give him the phone? Geez, Louise!

In other news, got the new range in yesterday. ( Click Me! ) It is digital and beeps at you. I like gadgets and things that beep so I'm especially thrilled with this. The only draw back may be that Baby Girl can turn the burners on. We will have to keep a close eye on her.

**By the way, I appreciate you and all that you do. So, if I want to thank you for buying and installing a kitchen appliance, I will!**

I'm completely congested and have a head ache today. That will be super duper when it's time to go trick-or-treating. Hopefully, I'll get over it soon. I hate having that big headed feeling. My head feels as if it could float away any moment.