writing doodle - thanksgiving

Long distance telephone calls were like gold: precious and rare.  Letters were written when to expect a long distance call so that everyone would be there, egg timer in hand, and the phone could be passed from person to person in three minute intervals.

"How high can you count?" Susie's father asked.

"Thirty," six year old Susie said.  She didn't always get the numbers right, but she tried, and thirty sounded impressive to her.

"Very good."  He beamed at his daughter.  She might be a math prodigy or become a scientist when she was older.  "Do you want to learn how to dial the phone?"

She nodded so hard her head bounced off her chest.  Only the big kids ever got to dial the phone.  This was her foray into new things.  Maybe she could sit at the adult table at Christmas instead of with all of the little kids who blew bubbles in their milk. "What's the number?  What's the number?"

"Eighteen twelve."

Susie studied the dial and didn't see a number eighteen anywhere. She could count the numbers but she couldn't always read them.  Finally she found the hole that had the number eight in front and put her finger in it and started to draw it to the top of the dial.

"What are you doing?" he asked.  She said she could count to thirty so eighteen shouldn't have been hard.

"It's eight-"

"No.  Eighteen starts with a one in front of it."

"Oh."

Maybe she wasn't going to be a math genius after all.