Which Makes our 12 Year Anniversary a MIRACLE

On the heels of a man-made flash flood and leaving on my flat-iron {that heats to over 400 degrees} for DAYS, it would seem that I am due a 24-hour time slot that doesn't involve grave peril for our home.

And thankfully, that happened.

Today, the kids and I headed out of town {by plane!--I am still rejoicing}. I even remembered all the key elements I usually forget: boarding passes, ID, and underwear.

But instead, I spent several hours on the airplane in prayer while I couldn't find my phone.

UGH.

Story of my life.

This happens daily(ish.)

{Okay. Daily.}

However, we're like most(?), many(?) families of this Modern Space Age that abandoned our home phone long ago for the mobile.

And mine is more than a mobile phone...it's like my brain. And truly, the only part of my brain that works.

ALL of my contact info, my ONLY camera, my calendar {which I don't use that often, but if I have a personality transplant and decide to attempt an Organized Lifestyle, it could become extremely useful}.

It tells me the weather on demand--what, OH WHAT--would I do if I didn't know the exact temperature and that winds were blowing at approximately 25 m.p.h. at a moments notice?

Games for the kids, Angry Birds, sports scores, facebook, twitter, Pinterest, Craigslist, my alarm, email, google, ipod {my heart is now racing}.....do you SEE the magnitude of my loss?

It's like being locked in a cell that is neither padded nor cutely decorated because I don't have Pinterest to plan out the cot and toilet layout.

Well, my awesome travelers {of whom I have no pics because of the aforementioned dilemma}, proved their awesomeness again today.

After walking through security, over the land bridge, down the escalator, to gate A32 (the bowels of DIA), I sat down and simply wanted to know the time.

{Did I mention it is also my watch?}

Rummaging through my bags, it became clear to me and the entire waiting area--who saw every single item I packed--that my phone was NOT with me.

So my posse loaded up and walked approximately 5 miles back to security.

Apparently, I had the look of Total Irresponsibility transcribed on my forehead because the Chief Security Guy offered to run my bag through the scanner to we could be sure the phone was NOT in my bag.

I definitely need one of these at home since I lose things on my own person more often than you might think. {This would include keys that I have found in my pockets WHILE the cops are sticking crowbars in the doors to unlock them.}

Well, NOT in the bag.

Security Guy even called my phone while the kids nestled their ears against our suitcase collection to make sure it wasn't somewhere inside.

No dice.

At this point, I figured it was at home. Somewhere.

Or in Brad's car. Somewhere.

Or in the airport. Somewhere.

The bright side of constantly losing things is that it doesn't send me into a frenzy. I'm frustrated at myself, and feel even worse that it inconveniences others, but I figure that it would turn up somewhere.

Or not.

Without so much as a phone call or text, we found my mom in Dallas (I know!) In order to get the withdrawl shakes to go away, I texted Brad from her phone, to gently ease him into the idea that I wasn't 100% certain of the phone's location.

Of course, I didn't use the word "LOST."

That would be foolish.

Not that Brad can't see right through this.

He has been to the "Nicole can't find her very expensive/important/priceless/irreplaceable _____" rodeo many times. And he is remarkably patient, despite the fact that our monetary losses from my carelessness could fund several small nations.

So I literally threw up my hands in praise when I received this:

Don't most people set their phone on a TABLE SAW for safe keeping?

In the garage?

I exhaust myself.