Want to know why I replace my cell phone every year?
Late this afternoon I was playing fetch with Wrigs in the family room. I call it the lazy ass's version of dog play because I was reclined on the couch, throwing him the ball while watching some nonsense reality television. I also had my lap top on my chest (so does that make it a chest top?) reading Court TV message boards, once you start, you're addicted. I was paying half-assed attention to all 3 "tasks" and as Wrigley jumped up on the couch for the umpteenth time demanding I throw his ball, I mistakenly grabbed my cell phone. I was winding up for the throw, then realized it was NOT his ball but apparently the signal from my brain did not make it to my arm in time and I whipped the phone across the room. It slammed into the stairs, hard (luckily they are carpeted) but then bounced onto the hard wood floor with full force. The battery popped off, but not all the way so I put it back in it's place but the screen was black. I hit the shut down button for a few seconds and then blew on it (it was covered in both cat and dog hair) and waited a minute or two before I turned it back on again. It started up ok although it took longer than usual, but when I tried to call my home number it kept shutting down. So GREAT! I made need to purchase yet another cell phone. Come to think of it, this one only lasted 10 months.
Cut to....2 hours later.
I was on my way out to run some errands. I'm half way up the street and realize I forgot my cell phone. So I turn around and come home. I'm back inside and then remember that this stupid thing probably doesn't work anyway, so I postpone the errands 'til the daylight hours and head outside with Wrigs and his tennis ball for some "real play" (but not before I grab a glass of Chianti and a bowl of reduced fat cheese nips, aka dinner). I settle in on the lounger and have a sip of wine, pop a few nips and throw the ball. It soars across the yard and lands on a chair in the little outdoor living room area. It settles between the cushion of the chair and the chair's arm. Wrigs, being the baby that he is, chooses to bark like a maniac at the ball instead of jumping up on the chair to retrieve it. He is a Retriever mind you, but he does the name no justice. So I get up out of my lounger (wow, I just realized I sound like such a lazy ass today) and walk over to the other side of the yard to get his ball and I chuck it full force back to other side of the yard, where I was sitting. As it's in the air I think, "Oh shit, oh no." And yes, it hits my FULL glass of RED wine, which shatters on impact and takes down the bowl of nips. Wrigs is frantically trying to gobble up the fallen nips so I rush over to grab him by the collar and yank him back into the house so he doesn't step on the shards of glass. Chumley's right at the door because whenever Wrigs and I are outside he likes to sit and watch the fun that he's not having so a frenzied chase ensues and I say, "F*CK IT" and let them hash it out. I head back outside and my patio now looks like a crime scene. I pick up the big chunks of glass and put them aside then get the broom from the garage to sweep up the mess. I hose off the patio, head back inside and pour myself a fresh glass, in a plastic cup.
Moral of the story: Don't play fetch with your dog.
The weird thing about mistaking the cell phone for the ball is that I tend to do stuff like that a lot. Like if I'm heading out and have to throw away a small piece of trash in the outdoor garbage can (like a paper coffee cup) I'll have the trash in one hand and my car keys in the other and half the time I end up throwing out my car keys. Or if I'm putting away groceries and I am still holding my cell phone I will put the phone in the pantry or refrigerator thinking it's food. Or even scarier still, YEARS ago, before I was married...I accidentally mailed my purse instead of a package in a mail drop in Chicago. I better stop there. People might start to think I'm an idiot or something.