Fun 'n' games with U.S. Census

Got a funny phone call the other day.

I had left work and was driving home when my cell rang.

"Hey, hon'," I answered, thinking it was my wife without looking at the called ID.

It was the U.S. Census folks.

I'm sure the guy on the other end of the phone --- he had a Deep South accent -- didn't expect to be called, "Hon'."

Anyway, it seems the census people were confused.

Sherri and I had each filled out our own census forms as single people living in our own homes in the spring before we were married. Then we began living together as a married couple usually does after we tied the knot, right?

I had a hard time getting that through the fellow on the phone.

Like when he asked me "What was I thinking about" when I checked off the line that said I did not spend all of my time at my last home in Bradenton?

Pardon me, pal, but I enjoyed spending weekends at the home (and pool) of my future wife.

Duh!

He also asked me rapid fire if my house was a foster home, an assisted living facility, a crackhouse, a secret ICBM launch site ...

OK. I made up the last couple, but some of the stuff was plain stupid.

My favorite question, though, was this:

"Is this (my old address)?" he asked.

No, I said. This is my truck.