Call Me Crazy

"Call me Anna."

"What???"

"Cong."

"Mom, stop voice texting!"

Nobody understands me. Not even Siri, or her cousin who's in charge of the voice activated texting end of things. I try to be a good citizen and follow the rules and I take advantage of all the high tech hands free options on my iPhone while I'm driving and I get nothing but grief. Siri's evil cousin twists everything I say, and my daughter's disdain continues to grow.

On the fourth or fifth try, the little person inside my phone finally got my message right. "I'm coming!" By that time, of course, I was already there, and my daughter was actually waiting outside the school entrance to meet me. She approached the car with some trepidation. I burst out laughing.

"What's so funny?" She didn't seem amused. "I was getting a little creeped out that somebody named Anna was texting me from my mom's phone." Aw. I was touched. She cared.

"Well you can call me Anna," I told her. I figure it's a lot nicer than whatever else she calls me in her head.

"Weirdo!"

Like weirdo, for example.

Anna. I like it. It was my grandmother's name (depending on which translation of some indecipherable Russian letters you use). It's old fashioned and modern at the same time, one of those names that doesn't get stuck with just one generation. Unlike Seymour, for example (my father's name), a name that appeared like some cruel joke in about 1917 and slipped quickly out of favor, I would guess, as soon as those poor tykes reached school age and faced the mockery of their peers. Peers with names like Stanley and Irving, no less. Names that boast longevity only because somewhere along the way folks stopped naming their dogs Fido.

Frankly, I'm pretty sure Anna is out of the question, and for now, I'm stuck with an occasional exasperated "Mom!" Not soft and feminine and flowing and timeless like Anna, but at least it's an acknowledgment of my existence. It beats the crap out of the silent, stink-eye stare.

The next time I voice text her to tell her I'm coming, I'm going to just instruct Siri's cousin to transmit the "call me Anna" message. On an especially good day, it might elicit a chuckle. On an ordinary day, she'll just know what it means. That I'm on my way. Call me crazy, but I'll always be there, no matter what.