Saturday, December 23, 2006

Dude Where's My Phone

The other night I was up way past midnight searching for my cell phone. I had called the hubby earlier in the evening wondering if he was going to come home for dinner or not (I was hungry). He said yes, he'd be home at some point, but that I should fend for myself. Groovy. I ate, I was happy. I placed the phone on the coffee table so it would be within easy reach should I need it.

The rest of the evening I kept busy restocking the dog food, taking out the trash to the garage, ordering Toastmasters supplies, making a flip book for E's super-cool and awesome boss, wrapping said gift, making several loaves of banana nut bread, cleaning the kitchen... I was all over the first level of the house doing various tasks and chores.

Later the hubby arrives home. He watches a little TV then goes to bed. I start cleaning up and putting my craft supplies away. I go to grab my cell phone from the coffee table so I can recharge it. It's not there. I look under the coffee table it's not there either. I wonder if perhaps it got caught in a sofa cushion. I displace Karma so I can toss pillows and cushions in search of my cellular link to the outside world. Not there, but I did discover something disgusting that I shan't discuss here.

I search all the trash cans, recyclables, went through all my crafting supplies (which are plentiful), the Toastmasters files, the fridge (one just never knows), the garage, my purse, E's laptop carrier, ... the darn thing is nowhere to be found. I ask the hubby, "Hey, have you seen my phone? I left it on the coffee table and it's not there."

"Hmm, no I haven't seen it. Want me to call you?"

No ring. D'oh. I left my phone on silent again, dang it.

"Oh well, I don't know where it is honey. Sorry." He goes to sleep.

I want to go to bed too but wondering where my phone is drives me insane; I can't sleep. I'm so careful with my stuff, I usually know where everything is. How can my phone be MIA?

I retrace all my steps and search everything again. It's very, very late. I decide to continue the search in the morning. In the master bedroom closest, while changing for bed, I notice my phone on Erik's shelf above his hanging clothes, next to his dress shirts waiting to visit the dry cleaners.

Argh. I want to make mean pirate sounds and scream, but the hubby is sound asleep. T'would be quite rude to awake him just to let him know how displeased I am about his relocating my cell phone, I resist the temptation. Happy Festivus baby, I let you sleep that night. You can return the favor by never again misplacing my phone.

1 comment:

Pamela said...

I thought that I was the only one that made mean pirate sounds! Just kidding, seriously though, I hope that you find your phone very soon!