My Mush Brain

Please please PLEASE let me blame this following story on being pregnant! I feel like everything else can be blamed on pregnancy (literally, the comprehensive symptom list pretty much covers EVERYTHING), so I'd like to throw the blame that way for this mishap for sure.

The story kind of starts last holiday season (which, yes, I am full aware I was not pregnant then...but still)...

It was Black Friday and Jason and I had been shopping all day long - the exhausting, feet detaching from your ankles kind of shopping, when we decided to make one last stop (at dark) at Gordman's before coming home...and to make matters worse, it was Gordman's - the store where it always seems like I can find some good things but yet always seem to leave empty handed in disappointment (I still haven't figured it out, apparently). So we were literally in and out within a matter of 15 minutes maybe, and as we were driving home, I realize the heart-wrenching fact that my wallet was gone. Sparing the details, we knew it was stolen (from Gordman's!), so I quickly cancelled everything (always fun) and slummed into the depressive state of making a list of all I wold have to change and get new to replace what was stolen.
Low and behold, a few days later - on my birthday to be exact - I get a package in the mail, sloppily addressed to me - with EVERY CONTENT of my wallet wrapped nicely in it - seriously??! They even mailed back gift cards! But no wallet and no return of the cash I had stashed in it. I couldn't believe it - mean enough to steal it but nice enough to save me the hassle of the DMV. Folks, they even mailed back my credit cards.

Now, flash forward to today...this was our designated day to finish up the Christmas shopping. We headed to the mall (about a 30 minute drive) after church this morning. After we had been driving for about 20 minutes, a van pulls up next to us (on the highway - going 70) and yells something in Spanish while pointing to the back of our car. All we get is that something is wrong with our car so we pull over and Jason gets out to check the damage. He's looking confused, not figuring out what the guy saw on the highway - and then the face. The "Oh my lovely wife" face.
He comes back to the car - not a word, but a sheepish grin - and hands me my CELL PHONE. I had left it on the trunk of the car, by which some man had happened to notice driving 70 mph, and it had stayed for 20 minutes on the highway. I've always thought it was a pretty awesome phone.

So we shop, shop, shop...then shop some more, flash forwarding to nightfall and feeling the exhaustion coming in, when, before you know it, we find ourselves making one last stop at none other than Gordman's. Why always the last stop? As we're walking in I joke with Jason about the last time we went there together a year ago..."hang on to your wallets in here!".

Okay. So we leave Gordamn's with no mishaps and actually bought a couple of things this time! On the way home I reach into the diaper bag to see if my sister has called me, and OH MY GOSH. No phone. My mind races to a scene in Gordman's where I let Lincoln look at my phone...but I got it back from him, right? Oh my goodness - it's in the shopping cart at Gordman's.

So I quickly call from Jason's phone (as we're turning around to head back to the store and my husband has that "I'm trying to be patient with her" look)..."Hi, yes. You might remember me from last year - I lost something in your store, again."

When we got back to the store, I frantically searched the carts and talked to employees...nothing. So we left my name and started the long trek home, this time feeling CRAZY depressed and wondering if my brain could fall to pieces even more. People - my phone had already survived a car ride on the trunk earlier that day - what were the chances of it surviving this? Not good.

So I called and had outgoing/ingoing calls blocked, as well as Internet access (which you can directly access a handful of some accounts from my phone) and felt creeped out that someone was reading my text message conversations. I also had Jason send a text to my phone offering a reward. We spent the whole ride home doing these arrangements.

Then we got home. And it was there I became utterly convinced it had to be the pregnancy because no one was as ridiculous as me without a grand excuse...

My phone was in the diaper bag all along...I never thought to check twice.

My poor husband.