iPhone Fiasco

Ok, so here's the post you've all been waiting for. If you're not sure what I'm referring to, you need to read my Apple Orchard Post first, then Cell Phone Nightmares to truly appreciate this post.

So, we get to the orchard and it was freezing out. I put my phone in the front pocket of my hoodie. I realize this is not the "safest" place for a phone, usually. But I was afraid if I put it in my back pocket, I would sit on it and break the screen. If I put it in the front pocket of my jeans, it might pop out the top since the pocket wasn't deep. I didn't carry my purse in and I didn't want to leave it sitting in the stroller because someone might swipe it when I wasn't looking. So my hoodie made sense. And besides, between the constant tweeting, picture taking, and my over-compulsive need to just touch it to make sure it was there, I wasn't worried about it.

We had seen virtually everything for the kids and our last stop was the bounce-house. Ethan played while my husband, mother-in-law and his step-dad waited for him. I went and sat on the ground next to the stroller and talked with Lucas. I took a few pictures on my phone of his shoes because I just couldn't get over how stinkin cute they were. Then I took a few pictures with the "real" camera of the shoes. I told you...it was really, really cute.

Ethan finished and we all stood up to leave. I know what you're thinking, this is where I dropped my phone. WRONG. I double and triple-checked my pocket to make sure I had it, which I did, and we walked towards the barn to "check-out". Just as we got to the barn/store, I bent over to tie my shoe. And this, my friends, is where it all began....

We walked through the barn and across the parking lot to head towards the cider mill to purchase our donuts and cider before apple picking. I got about 30 feet from the store and went to tweet about how excited I was about the donuts when.I.discovered.it.was.gone. My heart stopped.

My hands frantically went from front pocket, to back pockets, to hoodie, to back pockets and back to the front pockets as if I could somehow miss the huge phone the first 20 times I felt for it. Like it was gonna just be there and I'd be like, oh duh, there it is. But it DIDN'T. I turned around screaming back to the family, "my phone is gone. I know where it is, I'll be right back!" I ran across the lot and through the barn to where I tied my shoe. But it wasn't there. I walked back over to the bounce house which wasn't but a few steps over and it WASN'T THERE EITHER. Then, I started to freak out. Someone had taken it, I just knew it.

It was then my husband walked up. *Let me interject here with a brief history of our background. I was raised in church and taught to pray when in trouble or danger. He was NOT. Ok, back to my story.* He started swearing at me like crazy. He was asking how the "heck" could this happen and why the "freak" did I have it in my hoodie and didn't I know how "flippin" much that's gonna cost us and why in the "freak" did I have it in my hoodie...yes, I know I already said that. I'm telling you like it was. He was livid with me. And I felt dumb. Can I just say I don't like feeling dumb. At all. It annoys me.

So, I ran back to the barn and asked if anyone had turned it in (especially since I knew it had dropped inches from the doorway). They said no. They took my information to call if someone did.

I then ran back towards the cider mill to give them my name and I had this crazy hope that maybe, just maybe, I had stuck it in the stroller..even though I knew I hadn't. I was running quickly and came upon an area I guess they didn't want you to walk through cause it was chained off. With a BIG, THICK chain. I noticed the chain when I got about 3 inches from it...in a dead run. So I jumped over it like an Olympiad over a hurdle. *Another injection needed here. If you've ever met me.. I'm no Olympiad. Couldn't be further from the truth. Ok, back to the story* So, needless to say, the jump wasn't pretty.  What do I mean? Well, I missed the jump.... as in FAILED to complete the jump. I completely got caught on the chain and it ripped through both of my legs and I fell face-first on the cement....in front of a bunch of people. I didn't have the guts to look at any of those people.  I mumbled "sorry, sorry" under my breath and waddled to my in-laws to check the stroller. They advised me they had already thought of that and it wasn't in there. I looked again, just to make sure..and to avoid looking at all those people whispering about me.

I then weaved my way through the crammed-packed cider mill to find anyone that would talk to me that looked older than 13. I think I was silently concerned they would go look for it and keep it instead of calling me. I finally told a lady and then proceeded to start bawling to her. Um, I think her name was Joyce? Nice lady, she thought I was a freak. I rambled on about my cell phone nightmares, how it had all my pics, how it was so expensive, how my husband was going to kill me. She took my number and went behind the counter..WAY behind it. I left and came out to sit for a moment and take a deep breath and cry.

The entire time I was having my breakdown I was praying. It went something like this "Dear God...please oh please oh please oh please make whoever took my phone give it back. My husband is going to kill me, Lord. Please oh please oh please oh please. God, it has all my info in it! Please oh please oh please oh please make them give it back. And I think I might have hurt my legs.. God, I mighta broke my legs. Oh please oh please haunt them! Make them give it back. Tell em they will go to hell if they don't!" *I know, harsh, but they had my information!!"*

About 10 minutes later, my husband walked up and said, "You must be the luckiest freaking person in the world. I have your phone. Someone just turned it in at the barn." And then I lost it. I started crying so hard I was sobbing. My MIL says, "Why are you crying? It's all over, they found it." I told her because once again God helped me when I didn't deserve it.