So I’m sitting in my kitchen and the phone rings. A quavering voice on the other end of the line hesitates then says,”This is Dorothy. I’d like a cup of soup.”
I haven’t made soup in years. I promptly inform Dorothy that she probably has the wrong number and where was she calling? She says, “I was calling downstairs.” I assure her that she has reached a private residence, that she should re-dial, and wish her a HAPPY NEW YEAR.

I get to thinking. Dorothy probably lives in the retirement community up the street. So I call them and ask if they have a resident by that name– I know the whole name because it showed up on my caller ID. They say they do indeed. So I tell them that Dorothy needs a cup of soup. I explain how I know. We immediately start laughing. I wish them a happy New Year, and they get busy on Dorothy’s order.

Dorothy, there’s no place like home– but soup helps.

By the way–today’s special?
Cream of Broccoli.