Black Grandma

My step-father Tom has a history of changing phone numbers and phone service to get the best deal possible. Not a bad idea in theory, but it's difficult to keep up with their home number. In a three year period, he switched their phone service twenty-three times. And at least one of the services they have had was weather specific. You could not get through if there was rain occurring anywhere in the northern hemisphere during the duration of your call. The family got tired of updating cell phones and phone books and the like, and Tom settled on a number and service a few years back that he could live with.

And so this history led my brother to believe that Tom had found a new, good deal (and had potentially stopped going to his 12-Step Phone Switching Meetings) when, for a week or so, he tried our mom's number and an older black woman answered. She did not know my mother. My brother apologized profusely to her, but said she was very nice and understanding. I asked my mother if she had a new number or new service when I saw her last weekend (for her surprise 65th birthday party - which was a great party). She said that they had not switched.

Yesterday, I called her home number and a nice, older black woman answered. She did not know my mother, but was very sweet and wished me a nice day.

I'm left with only two plausible explanations. One, my step-father switched their phone service clandestinely, and my mother is unaware that she has a new number (but may be wondering why no one calls anymore). Or two, that my mother (or potentially my step-father), occasionally channels an elderly black grandmother woman.

Perhaps I am Abby's black dad after all.