I love my cell phone. My cute little LG with the rainbow lights. My cute pictures. My cute saved/locked text messages. My cute videos of the baby swan-diving off the couch onto some pillows. And videos of other stuff too *cough* which I won't go into detail about. It's all very precious to me, vain though it may be.
I seriously get panicky when I don't have it. After visiting my brother's house this evening, I realized that I didn't have it. I couldn't go back over there because the kids were in bed. So I had Eric go over there after he got off work. He and my brother looked all around the house for it. They couldn't hear it ringing, and they scoured the place in search of it.
So here's what they found: my cute little rainbow-lighted phone in several pieces on the road in front of his house. Like, irrepairable. Like, gone. I'm physically depressed about this... Time for chemical solace.