"Someone in this house stole my phone"
Most of
the things I’ve witnessed in the last 30 years, I never saw
Zombies?
I never considered they’d catch on as a major world nemesis. A TV network that
features only NFL programming during both on and off season? Impossible.
The list
goes on. Automobiles that will tell you when your spare tire is low; computers
that you can talk to in English, and will print your message in Chinese. If I
were to pick up my cell phone right now
and ask it, “What are the school colors for Huto High School?” Within eight
seconds, the computerized voice would say, “The school colors for the Huto High
School Hippos in Huto, Texas, are orange and white.” Just flabbergasts me! I
thought they were purple and grey.
By the
way, I’m not going to ask my phone the hippo question because it disappeared.
The phone, not the hippo. This is the second cell phone that has evaded my
detection. The phone is somewhere in
this house, but I can’t find it. I’m fairly sure it’s within 50 feet of me, and
I’m fairly sure it was stolen by our house gnome. In every house in which we’ve
lived, there has been a fantasyland creature whose goal in life is to aggravate
the daylights out of me. I figure it’s a gnome. It usually steals small things;
a single sock, my coffee mug, reading glasses, Sam’s card… stuff like that. But
now it’s taken my phone. Again.
I’ve used Kay’s phone to call me, but my phone
does not respond. It doesn’t even make the annoying” toot ta toot” when I text
it. Either the battery is dead or the house pest buried it under a large mound
of dirt in the backyard.
Kay and
I have looked in every drawer, cabinet, garbage can, warehouse, farmhouse,
henhouse, outhouse and doghouse. I investigated every book shelf, pants pocket,
shirt pocket and shoe. Under, over and around every coffee table, chair and
couch; between every cushion; behind every three dimensional object in the
house; under the mattress, and inside every closet.
I’ve
even looked in the weird places. -- What? I thought you said something. -- I’ve looked in the freezer, the dryer, the
washing machine, on top of the fridge, under the sink, and in the front and
back yards. Kay and I have checked both cars twice. I even looked in the compartment
where the spare tire sits. Nothing.
I
discovered the thing missing last Sunday week. Jill came up to visit during the
weekend, so I called her to ask if she remembered seeing my phone in an odd
place. She said she remembered seeing the phone in plain sight. I didn’t ask
her if it might’ve ended up in her suitcase or purse, because I thought she
might be offended. Well, just a few minutes ago, I texted Jill and asked if
she’d look in her stuff, just in case I accidentally put it in her purse or
suit case. I’m still waiting for her reply.
One of
you may be wondering if perhaps I left the phone some place in town. After all,
I’ve done that before. However, in this case I did not take it into town. I
know that because Kay bought me a leather holster in which to carry my phone.
The thing hooks onto my belt, and when my shirttail is out, it looks like I’m armed
and dangerous. Or a nerd. Regardless, I don’t leave the house with my phone
unless it’s in its holster. The case is still in the house.
I used
Kay’s phone to text some of the family to let them know the reason I haven’t
been returning calls or responding to texts. That was a bit presumptuous of me,
because seldom do any of them try to contact me. Col. Don, Susan’s husband,
texted back, “I hope your phone was password protected, so the gnome won’t have
access to all your info.”
Password
protected? Of course, it’s not password protected. I don’t even know what that
means. That’s the very reason I am not responsible enough to own a cell phone.
Fortunately, Kay went on-line and ordered me a used cell phone. It’s supposed
to get here by the end of the week. As soon as it arrives, my lost phone will
show up on the dining room table. That’s a big joke among most gnomes. Weird
how they become more active the older I get.
end
Mark can be contacted at hayter.mark@gmail.com.
An archive of Hayter’s articles can be found at http://markhayterscolumn.blogspot.com
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