Yesterday, my son came home and asked me if I knew where his cell phone was located. “Uh, isn’t that kind of your responsibility???” Besides, after having to remember nearly all bits of information pertinent to keeping this family running, my poor little brain just cannot contain such odious tidbits such as where AuburnChick’s son’s cell phone is currently residing.
“No, son, I do not know where you last put your cell phone.”
From the glassy-eyed look on his face, I knew this was only going to get worse.
But, as moms are supposed to do, I kept a positive outlook — after blasting him for being irresponsible. I mean, it’s not like it’s the first time something like this has happened. I am, after all, the mother of a child who came home from PE with only one shoe. All because the child shared his shoe with a classmate who did not have their own pair that day. So they each wore one sneaker and one flip-flop. This event made me question the parentage of my child that day. I mean, I’ve never done anything so, uh, strange. But, I digress.
Getting back to my story…
Son lost his phone, so the first logical step was to go by the office. Too easy. Of course. “Mrs. AuburnChick, is this your son’s phone?” Of course it’s not. It belongs to the boy who hasn’t discovered he’s lost his yet. On to the gym, where the coach greets us at the door.
“Hi, Mrs. AuburnChick! I remember you from last year when I called you about finding your son’s phone!”
“Um, I think you have me confused with someone else. Surely my son has not done this before!”
“Oh, yes, right before ____ tryouts.”
I hang my head in shame. Yes, it’s quite possible…
He unlocks the door to the boys’ dressing room, and I start getting nervous. You mean, I have to actually go in — there???? I’m scared.
Son and I go in and casually look around. Nope…no phone lying conspicuously on the floor, where we can easily find it.
“Ok, son, you take one half of the lockers, and I’ll take the other half.”
Surely not, you say! Yes, I opened every locker that did not have a lock. Lockers that had been opened by grimy, slimy, sweaty hands that pick boogers and who knows what else, because — let’s face it people — boys are just gross.
To my credit, I did not rummage through the clothing located inside. If that phone is buried somewhere amid the jock straps, underwear, and socks it will just have to stay lost.
Of course, we did not find the phone. I slipped out to my car where I de-funk-i-fied my hands several times before going to work. At least I think I did…
Filed under: This-n-That | Tagged: boys, cell phones, teenagers | Leave a comment »
AuburnChick's Adventures 