For years, people asked me why I communicated the way I did. They wanted to know why and how I managed to maintain various conversations simultaneously. I always assumed that was a compliment. I realize now that was their tactful way of saying "I really hate that about you, but I'm not sure how to address it.
So, like most kids, I blame my family.
The following example provides enough supporting evidence.
This is an almost verbatim excerpt from a phone conversation last week:
Me: Hey, mom. What are you doing?
Mom: Oh, hey, baby. We’re having a cookout. We all miss you!
Uncle Garrett: HEEYYY, POOKEY!
Me: Is that Uncle Gar…
Mom: Uncle Garrett says hey
Aunt Carol: *singing* YOU THINK IT’S YOUR BIRTHDAY … IT’S MY BIRTHDAY, TOO!
Me: It’s kind of hard to hear …
Mom: Here’s Daphie. Say hi.
Me: Hey, Daph. How are you, sweetie?
Daphne: ksafhiofh .
Mom: Say “we love you, Tarha.”
Aunt Carol: *singing* YOU THINK IT’S YOUR BIRTHDAY … IT’S MY BIRTHDAY, TOO!
Daphne: *singing* haaay. haAAay. Haay, sowl sistwer.
Me: That’s so good. Let me speak to Aunt Paula.
Daphne: Haay. HaAAy …
Me: Mom. Mom. MOM.
Mom: Hey, did you hear her?
Me: Yes. She’s so cu…
Mom: Allen, it’s over there. Check underneath the sink.
Me: Are you going to …
Mom: I know it’s there. I just put it there. What? Tarha.
Me: Yes?
Mom: Not you, I was talking to Allen. He asked who was on the phone
Me: Okay. I love you. Bye.
And that, folks, is why I majored in communication.
