So Trev's rooting around for food (actually going for sourpatch kids) and his mama says "Hungry? How 'bout something besides candy?"
He looks in the fridge, and comes up with a box of pizza.
"Where'd you get that?"
"Dad brought it home to me last night." Eric is Head Chef at a place that includes little gourmet pizzas on their menu.
I looked at Eric. "How did it come to be that you brought him home a pizza last night?"
"He called me." Now we don't have things programmed into the phone. And I've probably only told Trev Eric's work number like six times or so in the past. And not at all in the last six weeks.
"Yeah. He calls me sometimes after you're in bed." He grinned. "I asked him last night if he has it written down, or if he just calls me from memory. He just has it memorized. So he calls me."