Forgive Me

"... for butt-dialing you during dinner."

Dear SJG,
Not once, but twice this week, I've been butt-dialed by two of my formerly favorite peeps. I answered the phone, all excited. "Well, spank my tush and call me Charlie, look who's calling!" only to hear, "Waahh, waahh, waahhh, kreplach. Waahh, waahh, waahh, kasha varnishkes." I'm deeply offended and wonder what you, maven of so much, would do in this hurtful situation?"
Thank you,
Waahh Waahh

Dear Waahh Waahh,
There is nothing worse than the butt dial. Nothing. Okay, fine, maybe there are worse things than the butt dial, but when you receive one, it feels like a cruel trick, not to mention, the end of civilization. No one ever butt-dialed you when you were an innocent child. Better you should have stayed eight and left it at that. But please, don't despair. You have options that will restore your will to live. You can butt-dial the offenders who butt-dialed you first, but why get down on their level? Or, you can rise above. Answer the call for kreplach and kasha varnishkes and open that adorable deli you've dreamed of owning since you first stepped foot in Nat n Al's and heard your daddy order up a pound of Nova Scotia and a dozen onion bagels.
You're welcome,
The SJG