I know, it was awful. I can hear your collective groan of sympathy. And what's worse, we have no home phone! The moment I realized it wasn't where it should be, I got slightly panicky... and a little claustrophobic. I can't call myself to find it... I can't call anyone to help me... I'm stuck here forever with no link to the outside world! (Hey, I never said I'm rational when I'm worried.)
I looked under couch cushions, under beds, in drawers, in pockets, on the floor of the car... nothing. So I decided to email Paul at work and have him call my phone, on the off chance that I could hear it vibrate as I wandered the rooms. He received my email and responded, so I went to listen (and send up a little plea to St. Anthony). Still no luck. I sat down to write an email saying that I was unsuccessful ... when I heard a little giggle from Max's room!
Did I mention Max was still sleeping up until this point?
Suddenly his door flew open and he ran into the computer room with my phone in hand! "Look what I found!" he cried, with a huge grin on his face. "Oh, Max, thank you! Where did you find it?"
"In my covers!" It must have fallen out of my pocket when I was saying goodnight to him last night. Major sigh of relief. I called Paul back to let him know where I found it, and he informed me that Max had answered the phone four times in a row! While I was racing around the house, searching like a madwoman, Max was sitting on his bed chatting with Daddy, but Paul had no way to let me know.
Genius that I am, I hadn't thought to check the boys' bedroom. Thank you, Max, for saving the day. I just wish I could have been a fly on the wall when he awoke to a cell phone buzzing in his blankets!
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