covert ops

george and i not only spend the day together, but we also communicate regularly throughout the night. while a mere wall separates us, we have found that him screaming my name to wake me up is highly inefficient. not only is it incredibly stressful to wake up to, there is also the problem of me waking up. unlike my ever attentive mother, i was not born with bionic ears nor am i interested in what the rest of the world is doing while i remain asleep. without the harsh digital beep favored by every alarm now known to man, i remain blissfully unaware of george's needs. thankfully, dad now uses his portable phone to page the portable phone next to my bed. before this genius move however, the bells employed walkie talkies. for some reason walkie talkies never really entered the scope of my childhood so i had never played with one before. dad and i went crazy on those things since we felt it lent the air of international espionage to our day to day activities. the crackle as you push the button, the ability to talk in different rooms while pushing a button which also keeps the other person quiet, the special vocabulary utilized on a top secret mission - incredible! we developed code names and detailed every movement of my mom. "breaker one, this is agent n. barb is unloading the heating pad from the microwave"..."breaker two, your mother has now entered my room and is handing me the heating pad. she's a beautiful woman your mother"..."roger that, demetri. mom is back in the kitchen pouring a cup of milk"...."breaker two, tell your mother i love her. i also need some medicine". unfortunately, the walkie talkies ate through batteries at supersonic speeds and the era of demetri ivanoff and agent n faded away. it is both a blessing and a curse. over and out.