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The Case Of The Missing Cell Phone

I hate to admit this but I guess turning 50 has affected me more I thought it would. The other night, while driving home from a basketball game, I dialed up my friend, Don Johnson. We were deep in conversation when I pulled into the driveway. I walked in the house, took off my coat and started putting my stuff where my stuff goes. That's when I came to the awful realization that my cell phone was missing. So, while continuing to chat with Don, I went through my coat pockets twice, went through every room in the house - some twice - and even went outside and looked in the car. phone. Darn it! So, with Don still chatting in my ear, I went back into the house, back to my coat, checked all the pockets TWICE, went through every room in the house - some twice - and, once again, went back outside and looked in the car. I was fast becoming frustrated. The thought occurred to me that the phone might have fallen between the seats. Sadly, the phone was not there either. Again, I go back in the house, while continuing the chat with Don. I looked around but the phone was no where in sight. I sighed a deep sigh of aggravation and disappointment. I remember thinking, "Someone might try to call me!" That should have been a clue right there. Well, it was right about then that I said goodbye to Don, and that's when I closed my cell phone, looked at it, and said aloud, "THERE IT IS!"

It's a good thing that I didn't tell Don I had lost my cell phone. He would have accused me of losing more than that!

I'm just glad Elijah keeps up with the remote.

That reminds me of the time my mom took us five kids to a school talent show. A neighbor lady and her four kids went with us. Our van was packed. There were kids everywhere. Also packed was the school cafeteria where the talent show took place. On the way back home, mom said something to my youngest brother, Mark. She repeated herself when he didn't reply, and it was then we realized Mark was not in the van! Mom turned the van around and sped back toward the school. Along the way, we met a car flashing its headlights. It was Wendell Burchett, who had found my brother wandering around the parking lot.

Hey wait, that's it! My problem is genetic! There...I feel much better now!


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