Disconnect

Wed night was Mom and Poppa's last night in town, and they left Thursday morning (not before dropping off my house key, of course.) We were supposed to meet Dru for dinner, but he didn't answer his phone and we went ahead without him.

Next morning, Mom's worried, as she still hasn't talked to him, but they have to get going. Last night, Dad calls me. No, I haven't heard from him either, but I figured it was just some phone malfunction and I'd catch up with him later. No biggee. Well, apparently Mom's in a tizzy because she hasn't heard from Dru, and would I check up on him. Fine, whatever, no, I'm not driving over there - no car, remember? Told Dad that if he didn't show up for work this morning, *then* I'd be worried.

So I called Dru this morning. Turns out he set his phone to vibrate Wed when they were visiting museums and the lot, forgot about it, and got caught up in tinkering with the old bike Mom gave me. It was too late by that time to join us, so he left a message on Mom's cell and let it lie.

Mom doesn't know how to check her voicemail. Cue facepalm. Cue me nagging Mom to learn how to check said voicemail. As soon as she answers the phone instead of letting it go to voicemail. Oi.

In other news, I have my condo back to myself - Poppa's a wonderful, unobtrusive houseguest, but it's *my* space, darnit! There's crap all over the place - a dozen Flying Scot drinking glasses Dad gave to Dru and me sitting in the middle of the living room, the old bed frame in my kitchen, my tool kit out on the dining room table. I have a new underbed dresser and a nifty headboard, but I'm ignoring everything until the weekend. Last night I got my hero AmazonLibrarian *this* close to 24th level, and I'll continue killing arresting bad guys tonight.

Laundry and gardening and piles of crap can wait, right?