I dreamed I had Uncle Jim on the main line to ghosts of his parents

Uncle Jim was in a wheelchair – or at least sitting down. His parents were on the phone. On a real phone – not some slab of silicon – the kind of thing you can grip with a ball for your ear and a ball for your mouth. “They want to talk to you,” I said, holding the receiver to his ear. He started to speak and in a mater of seconds I nodded at him – sort of motioning with my head to grab the receiver. As I stood and held it for him he sort of motioned with his head back at me – as if to say,”no way, jack, hold that phone for me.” Consternated, I looked down and his arm was limp in his lap. “I’m not putting up with this bullshit” I thought and started to fume. He went on speaking withe old folks – now in heaven with angels. After a huff or two i finally yanked the phone away from his head in mid-sentence and sort of shouted, “Hang on a minute” and tried to hand the phone to Jim. He wouldn’t take it – calling my bluff – figuring I’d never screw up an opportunity like this to have him (and presumably me) speak to the deceased John and Evelyn. I wouldn’t give in though. The deceased languished on the line. Jim got pisseder. I got even pisseder. It was a mess. I wasn’t going to pander.