I lose my cell phone every now and then, as I'm sure you do too, but I usually find it somewhere in the house where I absentmindedly laid it as I was going about my daily chores. A few weeks ago I had a cell phone experience that has caused me to pay more attention to where I put my phone and to stop being so careless about mislaying it.
The incident happened on a Sunday morning as I was preparing to go to church. I don't have a fancy cell phone, mine is small and actually out-of-date, but I carry it with me all the time, as we no longer have a land line at our home. I was getting dressed for church when I first noticed it was missing. I did the usual retracing of steps back to each room I had been to, but I could not find it. I looked all over the house, high and low. My husband wasn't at home, so I couldn't have him call me to help locate it. Finally, I was out of time; I had to leave to get to church on time, so I gave up the search, even though I hated to leave home without my phone, because I would be driving farther that day to go to church with my mother.
I arrived at church, sat in the middle of the usual family pew between my mother and my nephew Philip, with my brother and sister-in-law on one end of the pew and three of mother's cousins on the other end. When the service ended I visited with family and friends for a while, then drove back home.
As I pulled the car into my garage, my cell phone started ringing. It startled me - because it was ringing from inside my bra! The realization then hit me. While I was getting ready for church I had slipped it there because the outfit I was wearing had no pockets.
What an idiot! I had worn the phone to church, sat with it inside my unmentionables with the volume on all during the service. And what would have happened if I had received a phone call during the church service? I'm certain I would have died right there. That's why I decided it was important enough to confess this phone faux pas to the world, or maybe I should say I just needed to "get it off my chest".
The incident happened on a Sunday morning as I was preparing to go to church. I don't have a fancy cell phone, mine is small and actually out-of-date, but I carry it with me all the time, as we no longer have a land line at our home. I was getting dressed for church when I first noticed it was missing. I did the usual retracing of steps back to each room I had been to, but I could not find it. I looked all over the house, high and low. My husband wasn't at home, so I couldn't have him call me to help locate it. Finally, I was out of time; I had to leave to get to church on time, so I gave up the search, even though I hated to leave home without my phone, because I would be driving farther that day to go to church with my mother.
I arrived at church, sat in the middle of the usual family pew between my mother and my nephew Philip, with my brother and sister-in-law on one end of the pew and three of mother's cousins on the other end. When the service ended I visited with family and friends for a while, then drove back home.
As I pulled the car into my garage, my cell phone started ringing. It startled me - because it was ringing from inside my bra! The realization then hit me. While I was getting ready for church I had slipped it there because the outfit I was wearing had no pockets.
What an idiot! I had worn the phone to church, sat with it inside my unmentionables with the volume on all during the service. And what would have happened if I had received a phone call during the church service? I'm certain I would have died right there. That's why I decided it was important enough to confess this phone faux pas to the world, or maybe I should say I just needed to "get it off my chest".
The incident happened on a Sunday morning as I was preparing to go to church. I don't have a fancy cell phone, mine is small and actually out-of-date, but I carry it with me all the time, as we no longer have a land line at our home. I was getting dressed for church when I first noticed it was missing. I did the usual retracing of steps back to each room I had been to, but I could not find it. I looked all over the house, high and low. My husband wasn't at home, so I couldn't have him call me to help locate it. Finally, I was out of time; I had to leave to get to church on time, so I gave up the search, even though I hated to leave home without my phone, because I would be driving farther that day to go to church with my mother.
I arrived at church, sat in the middle of the usual family pew between my mother and my nephew Philip, with my brother and sister-in-law on one end of the pew and three of mother's cousins on the other end. When the service ended I visited with family and friends for a while, then drove back home.
As I pulled the car into my garage, my cell phone started ringing. It startled me - because it was ringing from inside my bra! The realization then hit me. While I was getting ready for church I had slipped it there because the outfit I was wearing had no pockets.
What an idiot! I had worn the phone to church, sat with it inside my unmentionables with the volume on all during the service. And what would have happened if I had received a phone call during the church service? I'm certain I would have died right there. That's why I decided it was important enough to confess this phone faux pas to the world, or maybe I should say I just needed to "get it off my chest".
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