reach out and touch

"Mom, can you tell me how to do Jacob's Ladder over the phone? I'm going crazy here." Phone clutched to my shoulder, I tied a piece of string into a loop and tried to remember the difference between cat's cradle, witch's broomstick and the few other string figures I once knew how to make. I was able to remember Jacob's Ladder if I did it at top speed without thinking. So I did it over and over to talk her through it. "Drop the thumbs. . . put your forefingers through the triangles."
My daughter also calls me when she has questions about grammar, finances or recipes. And when sick, especially if she's throwing up.
But she never makes the kind of call that some of my friends do, which I call The-Last-Person-I-Spoke-To call. This person calls with a request for advice or help. So you look up the fare to Costa Rica or the 15-year mortgage rate or say "you were right to dump the asshole" (actually, I'm pretty careful not to say that, since you never know whether they're getting back together) and talk them through it.
Then they call the next person.
And the next person.
And they always listen to the last person they talked to. And then they call you back and say, "Well, Betty's daughter says I can get a fare for $230." "Well, Maria says I am crazy to pay 6 percent interest." "Well, Kate thinks any guy who does dishes is worth keeping and that I should get over my jealousy issues." And then, after taking a freaking poll, they want to know what I think. Again.
Put the string around your neck. With your hand in a fist, palm facing you, take your middle finger and extend it.
Reason I can't stop smoking today: phone polls