Will you take a message?

Carla called the other night. I was in the mood to lead her on, so this is how the conversation went:

Me: Hello
Carla: Hi, is Pamela there?
Me: No.
Carla: Well, is she in the room with you?
Me: I define here as the entire house.
Carla: Don't get an attitude with me. I'm done raising kids.
Me: Should I give you a gold star?
Carla: Well, is she washing clothes?
Me: And she wouldn't be "here" why?
Carla: Well, will she be inside soon?
Me: No.
Carla: How late is too late to call?
Me: Anytime you call.
Carla: How late is too late to call?
Me: Anytime you call.
Carla: Your mom isn't home then.
Me: I know, and that's why it is perfect, bitch.
Carla: Well, I don't need anymore of this. Can you take a message? I'm going to tell your mom about your mouth.
Me: You think she can control my mouth?
Carla: I want you to tell her the AVON order is going in tonight and you should write it down. You should also write down about your sinful mouth.
Me: Dumbass. Dumbass. Dumbass.

I hung up the receiver and felt a sense of accomplishment.