About thirty minutes ago my husband fell asleep while “putting the kids to bed” (as was the case here, Nels often puts Ralph to bed) and when I went into the room to roust my husband, I found Nels snug in the crook of his arm, talking on Ralph’s cell phone. I could hear a tinny female voice saying something. Quickly I snatched the phone out of my son’s grasp and put it to my ear. The Boy had called my hairstylist and apparently carried a few minutes of conversation with her.
Nicely done, Nels – but you still can’t beat Sophie’s 911 call of ’03.