I'm the ding-a-ling...

I am neat like that.  Practical.  Organized.  Reliable.  Dependable.  But not infallible.  So yesterday I needed to head out to take son #1 to the orthodontist.  Grab my phone and keys.  Tell daughter #1 (who was sick at home with a belly ache) that I have my phone.  Call if you need me.  And off we went.  Pick up son from school.  Drop off son at the appointment.  Stop at the gas station.  Back to the orthodontist office.  Read a People magazine cover to cover (current issue I might add!).  And then out he comes.  Tooth in hand.  New bracket on another with some serious looking wire to hold the whole business together.  Get our card for the next visit.  Make some nice small talk with the kind lady behind the desk and off we go!  Drop off son back back at school and return home to the slightly sick daughter.  A few hours go by.  Then someone wants to text on my phone.  "Where's your phone mom?".  Should be in the van.  It isn't.  Call the phone.  No answer.  I start to panic.  Where did I last see it?  Call the gas station.  No luck.  The ortho. office is closed by this time.  Fret.  Stew.  Worry.  Feel irritated.  But with myself mainly.  Stoopid!!!  Sleep fitfully.  Wake up and rush to the orthodontist office which is closed.  Beg the attorney fancy-pants on the fist level to call my cell as I'm certain it is in the waiting room.  No ring.  He even unlocks the door to check the office.  It's pristine.  Neat as a pin.  With no cell phone in sight.  He looks at me with a glimpse of disdain.  I'm certain he's thinking I'm just another ding-bat middle-aged mom that can't keep track of siccum.  I resent that feeling even though it is justified.  Back to the van.  Drive slowly home in defeat.  

So where does that leave me?  Without a phone.  I'm not married to it or anything.  But still!  I don't lose things.  Oh wait.  Yes I do.  I just did.  Something of value.  So we'll wait.  And hope that some person of good scruples sees my phone and calls the number that is listed as 'Home'.  

And on a completely unrelated note... one of our many young people pulled out a card table and a 500-piece puzzle.  I can't stay away.  The Chairman did the edge pieces.  And then I plowed into it like it needs to be put together by yesterday.  I'm almost done.  I know I can't go to a casino as I make private vows with myself.  "If I just fine this one piece, I'll quit and go get something else done".  But I don't.  I find that piece.  Then want to find the next one.  The joy of the piece perfectly fitting into its place.  So I'll sit and finish the puzzle.  And wait for the phone to ring.  I hope it's for me!