Once, as a teenager, I was in my room listening to music with the door closed. I kept hearing my dad call my name, but I ignored it for a minute or two. Finally, it really started bugging me, so I got up and stormed to the kitchen in a huff (I was a teenager, after all). My dad was fixing something - he had some tools and screws out. I asked him what he wanted. He looked at me and said, "I didn't call you." Surprised, I insisted that I had been hearing him call me for several minutes and that's why I came into the kitchen. Then he said, "I was thinking about calling you." Gives me chills 40 years later.
