Wednesday, October 25, 2017

How the...

I'm just going to say it, hell. How the hell?! I mean HOW THE HELL!!! Hell, hell, hell, hell, hell!

If the first sentence was enough to curdle your blood, leave now. If you have a weak constitution or delicate sensibilities, consider yourself warned. It's about to get real up in here.

I dropped my phone in the toilet yesterday.

Let me clarify, to "drop it" would suggest I had been holding it in the first place. My phone fell in the toilet. More accurately, it was launched. I launched my phone into the toilet like a rocket into space.

First off, I know I shouldn't have had it in the bathroom at all, but I did. If you've never taken your phone into the bathroom, you may smile smugly to yourself. However, if any one of you are tempted to point that out whilst reading this post sitting on the toilet, I dare you to comment.

To begin, yesterday, I went to the bathroom. It was a good day. I placed my phone on the counter because it's a safe place to put it, or so I thought. I contemplated the wonders of the universe, did some paperwork and then pulled up my britches.

I was reaching for the handle with my right hand and bringing my left hand around to grab my phone when, what the hell, not only did I not grab it, I swiped it off the counter with such force it sailed from the counter top all the way over the edge of the toilet bowl where it made a perfect ten point landing, face up on the toilet paper island inside.

I fished that sucker out with such haste I didn't even have time to finish my curse word. The case was hastily shucked and hucked in the trash and then I wiped the phone down with Clorox wipes. Every ten minutes. For an hour.

It still works.

I sent a text to Mr. D after the Clorox juice had dried. It was laden with four letter words like, 
"poop" and "fell" and "into", and some other explanatory expletives. He found it hilarious and showed the text to his co-workers who also thought it was hilarious, as did my friend, Angel and pretty much anyone else who has been told, but I'm angry and I'll tell you why. 

I could have dropped my phone into a sparkling clean toilet and I would laughed. I could have dropped it into a slightly less clean bowl with clean water and still laughed. I could have dropped it into a stewing bowl of fresh hell and at least realized I had it coming, but I didn't drop the damn thing at all! 

I had placed it on the counter to avoid this very thing! HOW?!

How does my friend alight from a swing and land in her dates outstretched arms while I end up on the ground just an inch from my own date? How do I give myself a black eye with a toilet seat? How do I end up hanging upside down from the swingset with my legs wrapped in a chain? How do I kick the only tree stump within a hundred yards and break my foot in three places? How do I manage to trip on the only concrete booger on an entirely flat street and hash my face all up?

HOW???

I'm so over it. I just can't find the humor in this one and I can't even be happy that the phone still works because I'm afraid to use it. I can't be trusted to touch it without a protective case, and with my luck I'll end up with some fecal born infection.

Maybe one day I'll look back on this and laugh...but not today.

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