The Very Bad Day

The upset and concerned housewife Rivkah sprang to the telephone when it rang and listened with relief to the kindly voice. 

“Darling, how are you? This is Momma.”   

“Oh Momma,” she said, “I’m having a bad day.” Breaking into bitter tears, she continued, “The baby won’t eat and the washing machine broke down. I haven’t had a chance to go shopping, and besides, I’ve just sprained my ankle and I have to hobble around. On top of that, the house is a mess and I’m supposed to have the Goldbergs and Rosens for dinner tonight.”   

The voice on the other end said in sympathy, “Darling, let Momma handle it.” She continued, “Sit down, relax and close your eyes. I’ll be over in half an hour. I’ll do your shopping, clean up the house and cook your dinner for you. I’ll feed the baby and I’ll call a repairman I know who’ll be at your house to fix the washing machine promptly. Now stop crying. I’ll do everything. In fact, I’ll even call your husband Morty at the office and tell him he ought to come home and help out for once.” 

“Morty?” said Rivkah. “Who’s Morty?” 

“Why, Morty’s your husband!….Is this 223-1374?” 

“No, this is 223-1375.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I guess I have the wrong number.” 

There was a short pause, then Rivkah said, “Does this mean you’re not coming over?”