Mr. Salesman

Lydia was in the kitchen fixing dinner tonight.
The phone rang.

"Tim, can you get that?"

"Yep." I answered.

I answered the phone, "Hello?"

"Hi may I speak with Lydia please?"

I asked, "May I ask who is calling?"
"This is Mr Cutco." (Not his real name, but was he really was calling about)

I said, "One moment."

(covering the phone microphone)
"Lyd, it's Mr. Cutco."

She answered, "I'll talk."
Then to Anne, "Go get the phone from Daddy please."

Anne comes to the back room, I'm holding the corded phone, "I need that" she said. I laughed, "Anne, get the cordless."
"I can't!" she said, "Mom told me 'Get the phone from Daddy'!"

I told her, "You can't take this phone to her, go get the cordless."

(All the while Mr. Cutco is waiting)

So, Anne marches into the dining room, through the living room, and into the front hall and pushes the button to make the cordless phone beep so she can find it. It's five feet away from where I was sitting. She walks back through the living room, through the dining room, and back to the back room to pick up the cordless phone.

Poor Mr. Cutco Knives - still waiting.

Where was I... Oh yes, the cordless phone was beeping when Anne picked it up, so she did what she always does. She pushed the button to make it stop, which also happens to be the button that takes it off hook so one can talk.
She loves to talk on the phone... Poor Mr Cutco Knives... He has no idea what is about to be unleashed upon him.

"Hewoh." (Hello with a 'w' instead of the L's)

"Good evening Lydia, how are you today?"

"Dood" (Good with a D for the G)

"Great! Well I'm just calling to talk to you about ... blah blah blah" He goes on for about 15 or 20 seconds, then there are some noises that are obviously Anne giving the phone to Lydia, then -

"Hello?" - Obviously an adult voice, obviously Lydia's voice.

"Oh, did you hear what I just said?"

"No, that was my four-year-old."

At that point I hung up...

Which means I could have, at any point intervened and spared Mr Cutco Knives the embarrassment of having been duped by my four-year-old daughter.

But you know, if I had, you wouldn't be reading this right now - snickering.