Assumption

I am a jerky, college student. The kind that doesn't call her mom except on Sundays- if even that. For some reason, it never really crosses my mind to call, and apparently the same goes for her. This weekend, however, I got an unexpected phone call from home. Who would have thought they would call on a Friday of all things! Fridays are the busiest days of the week- or year for that matter. There are always deals to make people to haggle with...not to mention the never ending line of sleepover applications, pizza deliveries, and taxi services. I looked at the caller id on my phone. "Mom" it said. She was probably calling to remind me of a bill I forgot to pay or my wavering status with the nosey extended family.
"Hey," I answer, prepared for the worst.

Mom says in an unusually excited voice, "The kids have something they want to tell you..."

My breath catches as she takes her time handing the phone over to the privileged child who gets to share the news.

Meanwhile, on the other end I am thinking, "YES!" and "NOOOO!" at the same time. I have always had a ball being the eldest of all the many children, smiling with their triumphs, and crying when their day at school brought on tears. In a strong sense of the word, I am their second mother. So when my mom says, "The kids have something they want to tell you...," in that tone of voice, I can suppose it is one of two things: either my dad has had an accident transporting oil, or Mom is pregnant. My logic tells me she would not be talking about Dad having an accident so exuberantly.

Naturally, I am left to suppose the second option.

I would love a new, little, squirming piece of love to play with. Babies are the best thing in the world (chocolate following soon after). A baby would bring my family closer. My littlest troll, Sarah, would have a playmate until she starts Kindergarten next fall. Mom would quit her new adversiting-business-woman lifestyle.

On the other hand, Mom having a baby at 40 is rather risky, not to mention the extra load of worry it would put on her. I would not know this baby! This baby would not know me! The horror of the idea left me reeling. My brothers and sisters have always been the best of friends, but with me out of the house, how could the new one possibly be my friend?

The battle raged in my head for about 30 seconds before I heard a squeaky voice on the other end say, "Delli, we have a surprise! Mommy had..."

Wait a sec! Did I just hear 'had'? I've been gone a while but not THAT long.

"...kittens!"

Kittens. Kittens. My mother could not possibly have kittens. She is fond of the Tom that hangs around our house, but not fond enough for this.

"What do you mean, KITTENS?!"

"Mommy cat had kittens. Three of them. There's a black, a pink, and a blue. I named the mean one Delli. Dallin says the ugly is yours, but I said 'no the mean one' and I lost a tooth. And we are going to have a hike. Outside. You can come. My preschool teacher is Mrs. Beans. She is nice some times. I hit Micley in Sunbeams on Sunday. When are you coming to visit? I miss you. I miss the candy you give me..."

When she had stopped for a breath, I shook of the ultimate silliness of it all. Kittens. Good grief.