Ever lost your phone? I know you have. We all have. It’s usually baffling and sometimes funny. Like the time you are talking on the phone to someone and the conversation leads you to want to Google something so you start searching for your phone and eventually exclaim to the person on the other end that you can’t find your phone!
On a recent Sunday morning, my husband and I were preparing for church at different speeds. He had to be there early to open and I was baking something for potluck so was going to come along later. As such, I came through the bedroom still in my pajamas and reading an article on my phone as he put the finishing touches on his outfit: mismatched socks, shoes, and a spiffy leather vest. He’s unique.
Anyway, I sat down on the bed to tell him about the article and then set the phone on the foot of the bed and started pulling all the sheets and blankets into place to make it. When I was partially done, I scanned the bed for my phone.
“Where’s my phone?” I asked as I lifted the one pillow still resting at the foot. He looked around the bed confused.
Thinking I had accidentally made the bed with the phone inside the bedding instead of on top, I spread my hands out across the bed, feeling for the familiar little box shape. Nothing. We were both flummoxed.
Before I had a chance to even ask him to call my phone, he reached to his nightstand to pick up his phone to do so. But then he stopped.
And I shall stop too for just a moment to let you know something. We happen to have the same phone. His is in a big textured, blocky, black Otterbox while mine is in a slim, smooth, off-white case with a picture from A League of their Own on the back. They are not easily mistaken for each other. Ok, back to the story.
“Hey,” he said, reaching into the interior breast pocket of his vest, “why don’t you take your phone and I’ll take mine instead?”
With that, he pulled my phone out of his vest and handed it to me.