Mr. Belvedere

My receptionist slides into my office with a finger to her lips. “Your husband is on line one. He wants to get David. I’m putting him through now.”

I tap on David’s door. “David, did you—” He holds up his hand for me to wait as the phone rings. I stifle giggles knowing what’s coming.

“Hello.” David says. I’m standing by David’s desk and can hear my husband’s voice.

“Ah, suh, this is Mr. Belvedere.” (Imagine the cartoon character’s voice in Foghorn Leghorn. ‘Oh, Belvedere!’)

 

“Ah’m calling, suh, from South Carolina about muh daughter.”

David grabs a pad of paper and pencil. “Did you say North Carolina?”

“No, suh, South Carolina.” David crosses off North and writes South. “Ah have a daughter. She’s a good girl, suh. Got herself into a bit of trouble back home, but Ah assure you, suh, she’s a good girl.”

“You’re moving here?” David is still jotting little notes as he listens.

“Yes, suh, Ah spoke with Mr. Bacon in your central office, and he assured me, suh that you are the best working with troubled children.”

David clears his throat. “Well yes, I do have experience.”

“Suh, Ah am greatly relieved to hear your words. Muy daughter is not a bad girl, suh, you understand. But she does need guidance and Ah want the best for muy little darlin’. A good physical education program would be wise, suh, Ah’m sure. You do have such a program, suh?”

“Oh, yes,” David says. “When would you be moving here?”

“Suh, as soon as Ah’m assured you will take good care of muy daughter.”

“Of course.” David nods as he talks.

“There’s just one thing, suh, Mr. Bacon did say you were good, but I understand your principal, Mrs. Jones, is even better. Is that true, suh?”

I can no longer hold it together. Neither can my husband. We both burst out laughing.

David growls. “You got me!” When he stops laughing, he says. “I owe you one.”

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