It's been six months since I brought my new baby home. Erm, my Outlander baby that is.

And yet it still is providing me opportunities to both learn and laugh. Like discovering the numerous quirks of the GPS, satellite radio and even getting used to how the damn wipers work. How the heck can windshield wiper configurations vary so much from vehicle to vehicle? Of course my last car was near 10 years old (or "ancient" as my daughter insists) so innovations in the auto industry HAVE progressed a tad in the interim I guess.

Obviously the old Dodge Caravan never had Bluetooth.

I've finally gotten used to the voice commands it stubbornly prefers and how to be patient and wait for the "beep!" before responding, but I still ponder the irony that it can't pronounce the word "mobile".

A recent car-to-car communication (or perhaps more appropriately described as a "lack of communication") proves technology has a long way to go however.

I had just picked up daughter from a late evening University class, as her shared ride for the day had left early. Suddenly the radio mutes and the incoming call indicator light flashes on my indash screen. I pressed the pickup button on the wheel control panel, noting it's hubby's usual end-of-the-day-whaddya-want-for-dinner call.

"Hello?"

"Hello!" he responds.

"Yeah hon. What's up?" (Like I didn't know).

"Hello?" is all he says.

I try again.

"Hello?"

"Where are you?" he asks.

"I just picked daughter up from University."

"You're in an elevator?"

"No! The University! She had a late class!" Why I am yelling now, I have no idea...

"She had an accident????"

OMG.

"NO! A LATE CLASS!" Now at this point, daughter bursts out laughing in the passenger seat. Which he CAN hear. Geez. Good thing I didn't even attempt to explain how it was her friend's turn to drive that day but didn't stay for the late class...

I try to remain composed. It's harder than I thought. Daughter's laughter is contagious and I begin to giggle too. Turning off the car fan and stretching as close to the microphone as possible while still attempting to navigate the turnoff to the highway at 80 KM/hour, I try again. "Helloooooo?"

"Geez. I can't hear you very well." he offers.

Doh! Rly?

"Call me back." We can tell he's getting a tad pissed now. Oops, sorry hon, but it really is too funny at this end. Which, by the way, we can hear you perfectly.

"Okay." giggle "Will do hon." snort

So I called HIS cell, shaking my head in wonder when my Bluetooth voice asks if I want to call the "MOBEEL" number for him.

Ring, ring, ring... he picks up.

"Hello, can you hear me know?" Gad I sound just like that dorky TV guy.

"NO!" hubby responds.

Well, that did it. Full-out hysterical laughter from the daughter and I.

What? My mind tries, unsuccesfully may I add, to process the fact that he CAN hear me ask if he can hear me, but he cannot, in fact, HEAR ME. This was getting ridiculous now.

So I offer a solution. "Just call me at home. We'll be there in 10 minutes."

"Okay."

The remainder of the trip was spent in hysterics. In OUR car that is. I can imagine the converstaion he was having with himself in HIS truck.

When we finally met up at home, I had to apologise. "Sorry honey, we really weren't laughing at YOU. We were laughing at technology.

Honest!"

But after witnessing the Look he shot back, I dare say I don't think he believed me.