"Hey, big M! How're you doing?"
"Big M'? I'm about a foot shorter than him, and a solid five inches shorter than his wife. And I'm not short. Nor am I fat. Whatever: he's being playful; I match his tone.
"Sick as a dog, TallDark Dad. I've been sick all vacation. It bites the big one." I laugh, ruefully, hoarsely. Laugh morphs into a hack.
"So, are you open?"
There are four toddlers in my home. I'm sure he can hear the rowdiness in the background. "Yup, I'm open!"
"Well, we'll be round sometime."
"Okay. I'll see you when I see you."
"Okay. Take it easy, all right?"
Ummm. Yeah. I'll do that...