A heavy heart...

"I don't know which vehicle you're talking about." Confused hubby responds to the telemarketer on the phone line just as the chicken breasts are about to come off the grill.

"Is that the extended warranty company calling again?" I feel angst rising as I ask dear hubby. I often get these calls from this supposed vehicle warranty company. This has been going on for months, and every time I follow my way through the tedious automated system to arrive at the "remove me from the call list" option. I select the appropriate key to assure myself of never being bothered by this generic telemarketing company with no known name, at least not one they're willing to admit to.

Since there is a law in Ontario that demands companies honour such "do not call" requests, I get exceedingly peeved at each consecutive call I receive from this "unknown" company. The rare time that I managed to speak to a real person on the line, they hastily hung up on me when I suggested that they were breaking the law by continuing to harass me.

But wait. Hubby has someone, a physical person, speaking to him on the line right now. A rare opportunity. Perhaps they'll listen to him.

"Yes, but which vehicle are you asking about?" Hubbies eyes dance from mine, to our eldest daughters, then settle on the ceiling. "We have two. Which one needs the warranty extended?"

"Tell them to take us off the calling list." My tone is none to pleasant. I've had enough of this scam. It's got to stop.

"Is it the Dodge?"

What on earth is hubby doing? He's giving them personal information? Is he nuts? "They call me at least twice a week." I blurt, a decibel higher, and rising. "Tell them to take us off their call list." I pronounce each word with labored precision. I know he hears me, but hubby turns to face eldest.

"Excuse me, what is this company again? Is this for the Dodge or the F--"

"Don't give them information." I YELL. "Tell them to take us off the call list."

"I'm sorry, if you can't provide the information of what you want to cover then I'm not interested." Click. Hubby hangs up.

I go into a tirade.

Hubby shakes his head saying, "I'm sorry."

Eldest defends her daddy and deems me as totally unreasonable, and not in any kind way.

Heat rises, the stack is about to blow. I mean, how many times need I ask my husband, the man who supposedly respects me, to plainly request that we be taken off the call list? Maybe coming from a man, they'd actually have listened. Maybe if our eldest had witnessed him carrying out my request, she'd discover I was worth an ounce of respect.

How I'd be blessed by that.

Not a chilly piece of flesh on me anymore even with the minus 12 draft flowing in from the open patio door behind me. Inside me, though, now there's plenty of ice to be found in there. Major lost opportunity to rid us of these tedious, inconvenient, and most annoying repeated phone calls. And to stoke the fire, should the flame not be scorching the heavens enough, the eldest has found yet another reason to hate me.

Make note: Never lose my cool with dear hubby in front of eldest ever again.

But hubby is not a stupid man. He's dealt with telemarketers before. He knows I deal with them constantly as I'm home full time, and he knows how much they annoy me. Trust me, he knows. So why did he ignore my very CLEAR, very EXPERIENCED request?

And why have I allowed a telemarketer, a person who has no name, who knows nothing about me or my family, with the exception of the fact that we own a Dodge and a F-- vehicle now thanks to dear hubby, to ignite such upheaval in our home?

There are so very many things I should have done differently here.

For starters, the fact that dear hubby had the "no name" telemarketer stealing his attention through the earpiece should have registered as to why he wasn't hearing me. That in and of itself would have kept me from the tirade that sent our eldest into Daddy defensive mode, which ultimately ended with her disrespecting me to the point of being silenced with a grounding.

Coincidently, today is actually the first day that I didn't get a chance to read the Love Dare since starting the challenge. I had been doing so well with eldest since starting this daily ritual, and now, the one day that I didn't open with it's mighty words of wisdom, I find myself failing miserably as a mother and a wife once more.

Life is too precious to allow "no names" to steal happiness from you.

Life is too important to allow "no names" the power to set tomorrow's mood.

Eldest and dear hubby deserve better from me. I'll see to it that they get just that.


"Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee;I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness." Isaiah 41:10