Bribes.

It is no secret to most of you that I must bribe Turner to get him on the phone. Occasionally he asks to call PaPa, but that is a very occasional thing. As he gets older, I must bring better bribes to the table. The promise of a piece of gum, a special snack, or a trip to the park will no longer warrant phone time. So, I get sneaky sometimes, slipping it into conversation that he should call so and so and sometimes he'll agree . . . sometimes. Today, this is how it played out.
I pick Turner up from school early, anxious to get my Mother's Day surprise (he made me a beautiful flower pot and a picture frame that says he loves me because I let him have lifesavers when he helps me make dinner). His class is watching Turner's Land Before Time movie. I chit chat with Erin's mom in the hallway while the last dinosaur learns the moral of the story. We grab Turner's loot and head to the movie store, then home. NPR, of course, is on the radio. The announcer comes on and tells us the temperature just as I am thinking how bloody hot it is in a black dress, in a black car, in the middle of the desert on this fair May day.
"Did you hear that Mom? One hundred degrees."
"Yeah. I was just thinking how hot it is."
"Yeah. I know. It is almost like melting."
"I know. I can't hardly believe how hot it is Turner. It is May. M-A-Y, May. Wow."
Turner shakes his head in the backseat. "Sure is Mom. And it makes me so sweaty."
"You know what Turner. I bet no one would believe that it is one hundred degrees here today. How hot do you think it is in Kentucky?"
"Oh I don't know." There is a woman on a bright pink three-wheel-bike. Her hair is huge from riding without a helmet, and it is very long. She is a fairly young woman, though older than me, and she is wearing this long, bright dress that I would love to have. This woman is very tall, and the gaudiness of her bike seems to suit her a little. She waves at me to acknowledge I am staring at her. I smile and wave back. Though this looks nothing like CiCi, the bike makes wonder if with three wheels her kids might let her have one.
"You know Turner. I bet you dessert that if you called CiCi and told her it was one hundred degrees today, that she would not believe you."
"Oh yeah. I bet she would." Good. He's enthusiastic.
"Really. OK." I start digging frantically for my phone as the light changes colors. "Well let's just call her and tell her. Let's see who can win this bet."
"Mom. You need to go." I drive on and continue to dig with one hand. I locate the phone as pieces of Talk of the Nation replay.
"Here Turner. Let's call CiCi." I start dialing.
"No Mom. I'm not gonna do that. You can just win."
"What do I win?"
"Oh Nothing I guess. I just don't want to talk on the phone at all. I just need to sit in the backseat a bit."
"OK." We stop at the next light. We wait in silence. I put the phone in my lap.
After a few minutes Turner says, "You know. Cici can just listen to the radio, and she'll know it was one hundred degrees today."
"Yeah, I guess she could, but sometimes it is just nice to hear the sound of sweet voices."
"Well Cici sure is sweet, but I think she'll be just fine hearing the radio in her car."