Me Grandpa Joe, he liked to travel. He liked to get out on the open road to see where it would take him. Me Grandma Cosgriff, not so much. A lot of that I'm sure had to do with Joe's driving. And the cheap hotels he'd stay in. And the quality of cars he'd drive. Ok, I suppose there were myriad and varied reasons why she would let him go off on his own. She was quite content to stay home when the wanderlust bug bit Joe.
Joe would of course call home regularly to let her know where he was and that things were okay, even if it was only Joe okay. Early one morning, one very early morning, right around two AM in fact, the telephone rang at the Cosgriff household. Grandma struggled out of bed to answer it.
"Hey, just calling to tell you I'm in California and I'm fine," Joe's gruff voice told her from the other end of the line.
"Well, I'm glad you're okay, Joe, but you didn't need to call me at two o'clock in the morning to tell me that," me Grandma said in response, in the quiet way she tended to address Joe.
He had gotten the times mixed up. Calling from California at 11PM, he knew there was a three hour difference from home. But he had it backwards that day and thought it was eight in the evening in the east.
Just another day in the life of Alice Cosgriff I'm sure.
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