So I only broke down and got a cell phone recently. I finally decided that yes, regardless of all the excellent arguments to the contrary, it might be a reasonable idea to have the kids able to contact me in an emergency. Also I've found it handy when being picked up at airports and things as rides can then actually find me. Who knew?
But the whole cell phone thing isn't quite part of my psyche yet, so when packing to leave I tend to have at least four panicked moments of where's-my-cell-phone. This time I got smart though, I called myself.
Now, luckily I had taken the phone off silent (interview) mode, and returned it to just-barely-ring mode, so if I listened really really carefully I would be able to hear it. Probably. So I dialed myself. Now, I'm a reasonably thoughtful guest, and this would be a long-distance call. I didn't want it to actually go to voice mail or anything, so I had to let it ring four times and then hang up really quickly.
I spent several rounds of this wandering through the place, thinking 'is it getting louder? No, I think it was louder over here...' then wandering back again. I had definitely ruled out the kitchen, dining-room and bathroom, and was standing in the bedroom wondering if I should look under the bed for the third time, when I noticed something.
Yes, I found it.
In my pocket.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
kind of like your charger, and water bottle. you are very good at losing things. lucky you have ME...the ultimate crap finder. otherwise you'd never know where you keys were...
Post a Comment