Preparing to run out to the store to pick up a missing vital ingredient for tonight’s dinner, I swung the backpack/diaperbag onto my back. And then realized the cell phone wasn’t in it. I’d missed it on our walk this morning. So, where did I leave it? I’d given it to Bella to play with earlier…. I know she loves it so but why do I do that? She always misplaces it.
But I have a surefire plan to find it: just dial the cell phone from the office line. Never fails before the cell even rings, I spot it. Except this time it failed. Not only did I not spot it, the cell didn’t ring. So I’m searching behind the couch and the recliner where Bella had been playing. And as I stood up quickly, my hair got stuck in the backpack’s zipper! Ouch! Excruciating pain!!! I almost begin shouting cusswords. I stop myself, mindful of impressionable young ears; but I do shout nonsense syllables.
And finally figure out what to do in the absence of a beloved husband who will come running when I scream (still getting used to not having him around the house all day): I calmly remove the scrunchy from my bun, untie my hair from its knot, and gently pull the strands from the zipper.
By which time the thunderstorm has broken and it’s raining buckets and I’m not sure I want to take the baby out in this weather anyway. And then I find the cell phone in the cushions of the recliner.
Now what on earth am I going to make for dinner?
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