One of the best things about the way my house is designed is that even when I'm sitting in my bedroom with the door closed, I can still hear all the way down the stairs, through the living room and into the kitchen, where my Dad is having a full-on domestic with our telephone. This may also have something to do with the fact that my Dad speaks about 15 decibels louder than the average person. But still. Whatever it is, I'm thankful for it. Because Phillip Trew Vs. Technology is one battle that never ceases to amuse:
(Phone continues to ring)
Dad: What the - ? Hello?
Dad: Hey, Rick! How's it going?
Dad: Hello? Hello?
Dad: Hello? Baaah!
(Dad redials Rick's number. While he is doing this, the phone rings)
Dad: Oh for crying out loud. Hello?!
Dad: Yeah, it's me. Sorry. This phone is a piece of shit.
Oh, yes. I'm sure it was the phone at fault.